An Age of Uncertainty
by Van Girl
Summary: Just a story about Tristan and Peronell, a young woman at the fort. It takes place prior to the movie. We'll see how far it goes
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

An early morning fog hung over the valley, smearing the reds and purples of the sunrise as it slowly worked its way up and over the mountains. Though it was becoming warmer as the seasons turned from spring to summer, the mist kept the air damp until at almost mid-day. The air was slowly filling with the sounds of people waking up, animals pecking about for food, stomping at the ground, and the sound of the market place vendors preparing for their day. Without any doubt this was Peronell's favourite time of day, before the fort became crowded and bustling with people going about their lives, before work began. The morning belonged to her and her alone, for a short time at least

"Peronell? Peronell?!" Her mother's voice cut through the golden silence of morning, "Come and collect your siblings so that I can prepare our morning meal!"

Peronell hurried over to the kitchen where her mother was attempting to move around her 6 other children while locating the cheese, bread and ale that would sustain them through the morning's chores.

"Come here all of you and sit down!" Peronell order her siblings, collecting them much like you would herd cats, "Sit and wait and behave yourselves or there will be no food at all." That final threat usually did the trick and the children sat themselves immediately with nary a peep to be heard from anyone

Beatrix cast a grateful look towards her eldest daughter and brought the food to the table, grateful for the extra hands her daughter offered in assistance.

"Fendrel go and tell your father the food is ready." As the village blacksmith, Peronell's father and eldest brother were up and at the Smithy just before dawn to ensure the fire was stoked and ready for the day's work ahead. They would have to eat in shifts to ensure the fire didn't go out and when they were both present one of the younger boys would be responsible for keeping the fire going.

Although there were endless tasks to be done throughout the day, her family always came together for their meals. What followed would be a flurry of activity as the younger children were put to work tending animals or harvesting the smaller vegetables their mother grew, Fendrel and Father headed to the Smithy to begin their work and Peronell went to the local seamstress to learn her trade.

She had not yet been given the chance to make any actual clothing however she was becoming very skilled at quickly and accurately repairing any manner of rips and tears that appeared in clothing. She hoped to be given more challenging tasks in the coming months. Weaving her way through the various stalls, animals and merchants, Peronell arrived at the seamstress' stall shortly after sunrise.

"Good morning Mistress, how are you today?" Peronell enquired as she entered the woman's stall. There was a frantic energy in the air, along with the strong smell of......ale?

"Dear girl, thank heavens you have arrived. We have an astonishing number of shirts, pants and other clothing to repair, with no thanks to the events of last night!" Mistress Alys dropped a large pile of shirts in Peronell's lap along with a basket of needles and thread. "Get to work, knights first, followed by merchants, wives, you know the routine."

Peronell tied her long, brown hair back in a braid and got to work mending a variety of holes, tears and in some case, entire sleeves that had been almost removed.

"It must have been quite the celebration last night..?"

Alys threw a look at Peronell that was part eye-roll , part disapproving confirmation.

"One would think that men could celebrate together without coming to blows but evidently, this was not the night for such a thing," Alys shook her head disapprovingly, "Choose wisely my dear, when your time comes. This behaviour should all be noted....fools the lot of them...honestly...set me back a day of work with all this foolish mending." Alys continued the repairs, muttering away to herself.

Peronell could not help but smile. She had heard all the noise last night, had actually witness the beginning of it before her mother had whisked her off to bed. With enough ale, even the most subdued of men could be enticed to battle. It seemed the entire fort knew that Alys would be in a disapproving mood today as no one came to bother the ladies until mid-day when the air was warm and sweet with the smell of hay. Peronell had made quite a bit of headway on her pile and had moved on to the merchants clothing.

There was a gentle knock on the door frame, "I beg your pardon ladies, I was wondering if perhaps you had found the time in your busy morning to mend my shirt?" Peronell glanced up at the husky voice that came from the doorway. Tristan, one of Arthur's Sarmatian knights, was leaning in through the doorway, uncertain as to whether it was safe to actually enter. Turning her gaze to Alys, Peronell saw her take a deep, measured breath and look up at the knight with a smile on her face.

"Of course it is ready Tristan, Peronell is just finishing up the last of your shirts as we speak." Peronell gave a quick nod and snatched the shirts up out of her lap as Alys gestured for her to be quick about it, smiling all the while.

"I'm not sure which is yours Sir," Peronell kept her voice quiet and calm as her mother had instructed her to when speaking to a man. She glanced up at the tall knight who quickly began sorting through the tunics in her arms.

"Are those all ours?" Tristan looked from Alys to Peronell with a sheepish look on his face, "Ladies I am sorry for all this work we gave you. This one is mine." Tristan took a dark blue tunic from the pile Peronell held and prepared to go. Alys looked at him, cocking one eyebrow. "Perhaps I should just take all of them," Tristan stated, as he cowed before the firm gaze of the seamstress, "to save you ladies any further interruptions." He carefully removed the bundle of shirts from Peronell's arms, nodding politely as he backed out of the stall. "Thank you kindly ladies"

As he left, Alys and Peronell exchanged a quick glance. At 6 feet, Tristan was one of the tallest men in the village, and his dark hair and dark eyes made him a popular attraction with the women but he never seemed to seek out any one person. He was the type of man that you were invited to look, but not touch. Alys looked at Peronell from the corner of her eyes,

"Such an attractive man, but so.....odd. He really never speaks at all, and then suddenly he has something to say."

"Hmm, he is very attractive but you never know what he's thinking and he's so....mysterious. Almost a bit frightening but you know he would never really hurt someone. Still...."Peronell shook her head in exasperation.

Alys turned to look at Peronell with a look of shock on her face,

"Huh, has he claimed another heart then?" She winked at Peronell to show her she was only joking.

" I don't know what you're talking about Alys. I would never even consider it."

"Oh come on now," Alys teased her, "I saw the shy glance, the little hint of pink in your cheeks; you could barely even look at him!"

Rolling her eyes Peronell sat down and got back to work, hoping she hid the small smile that crept across her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The remainder of the week Peronell was kept busy between her apprentiship, helping her mother with the children and cooking and planting the new seeds. It was that time of year when there were simply not enough hours in the day. Peronell was finally able to seek out some solitude in the stables that were connected to her father's shop. Something about the musky smell of the horses, combined with the leather of the saddles and sweetness of the hay creating a calming environment. By this time of day, with dinner finished and most people winding down from a day of hard work, the town was quieting down somewhat.

"Hello handsome," Peronell cooed at one of the big, black stallions over the stall door. "Such a beautiful boy aren't you?" For such a large animal, almost 16 hands, he was the one of the calmest she had ever seen. All black with just a touch of white down the center of his muzzle. Nell reached her hand out to stroke the soft, velvety nose and the stallion snuffled at her in return. "I think we should ask father if you need to be taken out for a little ride. What do you think of that?"

"I think you would find he is probably more than you can handle." Tristan's voice came from just behind her.

Peronell yanked her hand in and turned around, startled that she hadn't heard the man enter the stable.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just...He's gorgeous" she stammered, a little embarrased to be caught cooing at an animal.

"Yeah, he is. A good horse as well, he would take me anywhere I asked." Tristan reached out and stroked the horse's thick neck, giving him a sound pat. "You can hop up on him if you like but you're not get on him unless I'm around. He may look calm and forgiving but if he decides to take off on you......." he left the words dangling, implying the danger that await her if she didn't know how to manage a stallion properly.

Peronell smiled somewhat hesitantly, not feeling as brave as a moments before. "Ummm, well, some horses are more finicky than others. Perhaps I should leave him to you to handle."

Tristan scoffed under his breathe, a slight smile on his lips. "Up you go, fear doesn't lead to anything other than more fear. Come one." He led the stallion out of the stall, placing his face along side the animals, perhaps to calm it. Turning to Peronell he made a cradle with his hands and gestured with his chin that she should use this as her boost up on to the horse. Taking a hold of the animal's mane, she placed her foot in Tristan's hands and jumped up, pulling on the mane and using the cradle for leverage. It was a fruitless effort. She only succedded in yanking on the mane too hard and almost kicking Tristan in the face in her effort to reach the necessary height to mount the horse.

To his merit, Tristan turned his head away to laugh and managed to turn it into something resembling a cough instead but it was clear that he found the process very amusing.

Peronell was humiliated. "Well he's very big you know, I'm used to much smaller horses. I barely reach his shoulder"

Composing himself, Tristan turned back to look at her. "No, that was my fault, I forgot that not everyone rides a horse on a regular basis". He walked around to the stall and picked up the saddle. As he arranged it on the horse's back he explained to Peronell, "You cannot show fear. If you are fearful, the horse will be as well. You must be in charge, always. Mounting the stallion he looked down at Peronell, "Again. Put your left foot in the stirrup and push up, holding onto the front of the saddle, I'll do the rest."

Peronell took a deep breath and looked at Tristan with apprehension. "If I fall...." she said, her heart pounding,

"You won't. Let's go" Tristan commanded.

Pushing her fear down Peronell placed her left foot in the stirrup and reached up on tip toe to grab the saddle with the same hand. Using all the strength she had, she pushed herself up as hard as she could. At the same time she felt Tristan's arm wrap securely around her waist and pull her up into the saddle.

"Oh, I did it!" Nell was thrilled, " Or I suppose really, _WE_ did it. Thank you for your assistance" she turned and looked at Tristan and realized just how close she was to him. She could see the intensity of his eyes that so many people found intimidating, and smell the musky scent coming from his skin. It was intoxicating and made her nervous.

"Sit further back," he instructed, "You're too far forward. Put you're legs on either side."

She shuffled back a bit, somewhat hesitant as she realized this only brought the two of them physically closer together. The idea of having one leg on either side of the horse made sense in terms of feeling more secure on the horse but most woman were expected to ride side-saddle to avoid exposing themselves. Without a doubt this was the closest she had ever been to any man, ever. Between her feelings of ellation at actually getting on the horse and her feelings of trepidation at practically sitting in Tristan's lap she felt a little naseous.

"Better. Ready to go?"Tristan did not for her response but gave the stallion a gentle knudge and the animal looped out of the stable doors.

Any apprehension she felt melted away as soon as the animal began to move. Smaller horses didn't seem to have the same fluidity of motion that the stallion did, rise and fall, rise and fall. It was so calming. Tristan eased her nerves by keeping one hand on the reigns and the other on his own leg. It was amazing to view the world from this new height, everything appeared different. She could practically see the tops of people's homes.

"Ready to go a little faster?" Tristan asked after they had walked about casually for a few moments

"Alright" Nell wasn't sure if she was actually ready but it seemed like a rhetorical question as opposed to one that actually required a response.

She felt Tristan wrap his arm around her waist again and pull her in closer in one fluid motion, at the same time she felt his legs gently squeeze around his horse, urging him forward. The scenery around them began to speed up, the sunset beginning on the horizon, birds heading home to roost, people closing up their homes before the evening chill set in.

It was an exhillerating feeling, Peronell loved every moment of it and too quickly it was over. Tristan slowed the horse down after only a few moments and Peronell realized that he was heading back to her home.

"I don't want to keep you out too late," he said, his face almost right beside her ear, " people would talk and that would not be a good thing."

Although she was disappointed, she knew Tristan was right. Riding at night with a man and no one else around was a recipe for gossip. As they reached her home Tristan hopped off his horse and offered up arms to help her down. She noticed he was more careful in how he touched her now that her parents were in view.

"Tristan," her father called out, "I see you came to collect your horse. He need to run did he?"

"Yes, your daughter almost killed herself in an attempt to ride him so I though it only fair to take her out briefly. We stayed within the walls of course" His body language was open but confident and there was definetly some form of conversation happening between the two men that had nothing to do with the words that were being spoken.

Peronell looked at Tristan with some shock, feeling mildly betrayed at his assesment of her abilities.

Borin pursed his lips thoughtfully and then smiled, "That was good of you. She's a bit prone to acting without thinking sometimes. I'm glad you were there to save her from disaster." Peronell looked accusingly at her father, wanting to say something but choosing not to.

"It was my pleasure Borin"

"Have a good evening then Tristan."

The knight nodded his head, once at her father and once at Peronell before turning to go. Her father turned to look at her with slightly raised eyebrows.

"I'm assuming I do not need to explain to you the importance of not being out in the evening alone with a man you barely know?"

Peronell quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry I just wanted to...."

Her father cut her off, "I know, it's alright but I'm just reminding you. You are no longer a child . People, men, do not look at you in the same way they did before. You must exercise some common sense if you want to stay out of trouble."

Her father kissed her on the forehead and gently pushed her into the home. "Go help your mother with your brother's and sister's before one of them looses their life. I will return later." With that her father headed off to the tavern, mentally wondering why he was only granted two boys but five girls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It had been several weeks since Peronell had gone for a ride with Tristan and she had not seen nor heard much of him since. It was not that she had been keeping track of the time specifically, but she knew the knights had been away for almost three weeks because all the young women talked about their absence and then celebrated their return. The gradually warming weather meant that June had arrived and Alys had decided that Peronell could be trusted with the spindle and she spent most of her days converting the pounds of wool into yarn and thread. She was grateful for the distractions because she didn't like to admit that every time she looked up she hoped to see Tristan there, and when he wasn't her heart sank a bit. There were certainly many other young men around who were showing an interest but none that seemed quite as interesting.

Peronell sighed as she removed a spool from the spindle and prepared to start a new one. Her fingers, which had initially been covered in pricks and burns from the thread, were becoming tougher and more accustomed to the new task.

"That sounds like a heavy hearted sigh Nell," Alys had been careful not to pry into the girl's thoughts but her face was as transparent as a window, despite her best intentions.

"Oh no, I don't mind the work, it takes a lot of concentration but I feel I'm learning a lot," Peronell was quick to look more alert; she didn't want Alys to think she was ungrateful or bored with her new skill.

"I wasn't referring to your work; your work is just fine. Better than fine, I'm very pleased" Alys replied. "You just seem to be missing someone; you have a wistful look about you every now and again."

Peronell looked over at Alys, trying to determine if she knew more than she was letting on. It could have been her opportunity to share her thoughts with the older woman but instead she chose to smile and gently shake her head.

"No, there is no one in particular on my mind. I was just thinking of all the work to come and the summer solstice festival." She smiled impishly at Alys

"Ahha! That will be quite the event. I think you'll find yourself very busy that day," Alys teased. "If you think the men have been lurking about lately, you will be overrun at solstice!"

"Nonsense! There's no one here that has expressed an interest, I think I'll find myself mostly looking after my brothers and sisters."

"Well wouldn't that be a shame. Many young women find their match at these festivals you know. " Alys informed her. "That's where my husband finally found the nerve to court me."

Peronell smiled at the woman, Alys had started taking quite an interest in her love life, and although she would vehemently deny it if confronted, Peronell hoped that Tristan would take that opportunity to find her during the festival.

Summer Solstice was the event that marked the beginning of the summer, typically it fell on June 24th but whether the event actually took place depended on the priest, at least in this village. Arthur felt it gave the people something to look forward to and work for and he encouraged the continuation of the festival but his was not the final word. The better part of three days would be devoted to celebrating the start of summer. Each family would bring some of their newly harvested produce, animals would be slaughtered for food and ale would flow freely. Often there were contests and jousting tournaments for the knights, complete with troubadours and minstrels. It was an event that everyone looked forward to and Arthur did his best to make it a religious festival as opposed to a Pagan festival, thus ensuring its continuation. He asked the priests to bless the event and the spring harvest at the beginning of the day and to offer thanks for the evening meal. These compromises were usually successful in pleasing all concerned parties.

* * *

That evening while helping her mother prepare the meal Peronell asked whether or not the festival would indeed take place.

"As far as I know it will go ahead." Her mother replied, "Gawain has already organized men to assist in setting up areas for jousting and other tournaments and the women have begun planning who is contributing what."

"What will I be doing do you suppose?" Nell carefully enquired, hoping to have her days free.

"You will be watching your brothers and sisters and ensure they stay out of trouble, which should have the same affect on you I hope!" Her mother retorted.

Seeing her daughter's face fall, her mother continued. "You and Ysmay will share the duties throughout the days and in the evenings you may leave them solely in her care, as she is too young for the evening events but I will be far too busy to be looking after any of you. As the eldest it is your responsibility to look after your younger siblings." With that stern warning, Beatrix called for her children and husband.

* * *

The following week was a blur of spinning thread, dying wool and creating and fixing the clothes of the entire village, or so it seemed to Peronell. She was at work early each day and stayed late each evening. Out of sheer necessity Alys was allowing her to dye the wool but kept a very close eye on the process, barking endless orders and commands at every turn. Each Sarmation knight came by to drop off or request a tunic. They so seldom had a reason to don any formal attire that they never realized the state of their clothing until the last minute. Nell also found herself busy helping her father with all the extra work coming to the Smithy. Swords and lances needed to be repaired and shields created. The days leading up to a festival were always the busiest for blacksmiths.

In addition to the escalating busyness leading up to the festival, knights from outside the village were also arriving in anticipation of demonstrating their strength and skills to both Arthur and the eligible young ladies they hoped to find. The younger men of the village tried to find time to prepare themselves for the various events, in the hopes that they could prove themselves able as knights and suitable husbands, especially with the added competition of the other knights.

* * *

Three days prior to the festival, Arthur and his knights sat in counsel over the rather trivial matter of who would compete and in what. Dagonet abstained as he was considered the best healer in the village and would no doubt be frequently needed. Arthur also refrained from the competitions as the men felt he should remain neutral as the unofficial host and unchallenged in his abilities.

"I'm in for mock combat" Bors announced

"Myself as well" Lancelot agreed

"Archery" Galahad offered

"Falconry, perhaps archery, only to show up Galahad" Tristan offered with a smirk

"Shocking," Bors jested, "Tristan is entering in a falconry competition, who would guess it?"

"At least it's a real skill old friend" Tristan threw back, complete with a wink to dispel Bors short temper.

"Right then, keep the peace whenever you are not competing, we don't want this event spiralling out of control and don't expend all your energy." Arthur advised as the meeting drew to a close.

"That's right, save some for the women!!" Bors roared and the knights laughed as they headed outside into the bright sunlight.

"What else is energy good for, hmm?" Lancelot mused. "Pay attention young pup," as he gestured at Galahad, "you may learn something yet."

Shaking his head Galahad gave Lancelot a sound push to show him he wouldn't back away from a challenge. "Ah Lancelot, how you cling to your glory days." Galahad jeered, "Fear not, I will always admire you, even in your advanced age."

Tristan laughed with the rest of the knights while he casually cast his eye about the village, seeing if she was nearby.

"Over there." Dagonet said it so quietly as he passed Tristan that he thought he might have been hearing things, but when he looked to the right where Dagonet paused he saw Peronell. She was carefully removing the freshly dried garments from the dye racks, doing her best to ensure no residual dye passed over to her own clothes. He nodded subtly to Dagonet in thanks and moved on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The sun had almost dipped behind the horizon but Borin and Fendrel were still hammering away in the shop and Peronell had one more horse that still needed to be walked. Although she was excited for all the upcoming festival, she was exhausted. She felt that she had not had a moments rest over the last two weeks. The official festival was only a day away but unofficially the revelry would begin tomorrow evening at the tavern. Walking the horses around was the only time when she felt there was any degree of solitude and even this evening she knew she would likely be ducking and dodging around merry makers.

Slipping into the stall she grabbed the lead and prepared to slip it over the stallion's head, Tristan's stallion to be more specific. The horse however, had different ideas. He began to turn himself around, moving his back end, the most dangerous end, closer to her.

"Hey now, you and I are supposed to be on better terms," Peronell reminded him firmly. She tried to convey confidence in her voice as Tristan had told her; fearful leaders made for fearful horses.

"Come on, no more nonsense." She placed her hand firmly on the horse's flank, which was drawing ever closer. "I said enough!" With that final warning she threw all of her body weight against the horse's flank, driving her shoulder into his body. The massive animal stopped moving and looked over his shoulder at her, ears pricked forward. Her hit didn't have as great an impact as would a full grown man but the stallion got the message. She was in charge, not him. Expelling the breath she had been holding, she slipped the lead over his head and pulled his face around so that they were nose to nose. "No more funny business, I know your master, and I will have words with him if you misbehave" she warned.

She led the stallion out of the stables, letting her brother know she was going. He laughed as he watched her walk out, she honestly was barely half the height of the horse but he obligingly followed her.

"Perhaps she's studying the wrong trade?" Fendrell suggested to his father, gesturing towards her retreating form.

Looking up, Borin took note of the situation,

"No, that horse just knows what is in his best interest. If your sister tells you to do something, just do it and don't make a fuss over it." The two men laughed and continued their work.

Peronell had a rough route laid out for the horses. She walked them all around the inside wall of the inner fort, cut through the middle and then led them in figure eights from one side of the fort to the other. It made it easier to check if they were limping at all, indicating that a shoe might not be fitting properly.

She was making her way through the center of the village when she saw some approaching men who were not familiar to her. Her heart rate quickened a bit as she took in their staggering motions and the loud way they were speaking to each other. She kept close to the stallion, hoping she would pass by undetected beside the bulk of the animal.

"Well what do we have here?" One of the men said, his speech slightly slurred. "What a pretty young thing you are." They slowed their pace down to get a better look but Peronell tried to maintain her pace and move around them.

"Hey now, why are you rushing on past?" Another man enquired, walking closer to her, "We're only being friendly. Hasn't your mother taught you proper manners?"

Peronell was becoming increasingly nervous and as a result the stallion was as well. He flicked his tail about and moved his ears around, trying to understand the situation. She pressed herself closer to the horse.

"Excuse me gentlemen, I have work to do and I am expected to return to home shortly."

"By whom?" said the first man, standing close enough to her that she could smell the ale on his breath. "Who would truly deny us the pleasure of having such an attractive young lady in our company?" He reached out and fingered a piece of her long, brown hair, preparing to trail that same hand down to her waist.

"I would." Tristan's voice cut through the dark, cold and strong. Not a voice that encouraged a challenge. "Move away from her and carry on your way." He ordered.

The men turned immediately at the sound of the voice, trying to determine if they would engage in a fight. Three against one were promising odds, however Tristan cut an imposing figure. At 6 feet he was tall for the time and with his chin tilted up just slightly he was able to look down on all three men with very little effort, his hand casually resting on his sword.

"You will have to learn to mind your manners while you are here." Tristan explained, his tone very curt. "We do not pursue ladies who do not welcome it."

"Maybe she was." One of the men retorted.

"We were only having fun."

"It does not appear that way. Go." His tone let the men know the conversation was over and they wisely took their leave in as dignified a manner as possible.

Peronell closed her eyes in relief, her heart hammering in her chest, breathe ragged. She pressed her face against the stallion's neck and tried to compose herself. Never before had she found her self in such a situation. It had been terrifying.

"Are you alright?" Tristan asked, moving towards her. She looked at him and saw him reach out to her as if to soothe her, then he seemed to reconsider and placed his hand reassuringly on his horse. "He would have kept you safe." He said, "They wouldn't have come any closer than they did."

"Be that as it may," Peronell said, still trying to slow her heartbeat, "Thank you, for stepping in."

"I would never let harm come to you. " Tristan stated, almost as though he was surprised she might think otherwise. He continued to rub the stallion's face, slowly and methodically, but his eyes were on her, his body no more than a foot away. They stood there for what seemed like forever, his brown eyes holding her completely motionless. Her heartbeat, which had slowed from the earlier event, began to quicken again and she could feel a blush colour her cheeks.

"I will see you home," Tristan said, placing his hand in the small of her back to guide her.

"I still need to walk him, I haven't done the full route, I have to make sure the shoes are on properly." Peronell was desperate not to return so quickly, these moments seemed to be the only time Tristan would speak to her, when no one else was around.

"He seems fine, " Tristan said, observing the horse's gait but one look at Peronell's crestfallen expression and he agreed that perhaps a few more laps were in order, just to be certain.

Even though it was what Peronell wanted, now that she and Tristan were walking along together, she didn't know what to say. The only thing she knew about him was that he was a Sarmation Knight and that he had a very large horse. They walked in silence for some time, though it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Are you going to compete in any of the tournaments?" she enquired.

"Falconry." Tristan answered

"You don't like to compete in combat? I thought most knights liked to prove their skills to a crowd."

"I don't feel the need to prove my abilities. They're tested enough that I know my strengths and that is most important I think."

Peronell nodded in agreement, "I can't argue with that but isn't it supposed to be, in essence, just for sport?" She was surprised how unlike most men he was. There was no need to prove himself, nor demonstrate his abilities. He was simply Tristan.

"I don't find combat sporting." He paused, trying to explain properly. "I fight because that is what I was trained to do from a very young age and because I am good at it it."

Peronell was quiet as she thought this over. "What would you do if you weren't a knight?"

It took Tristan some time before he answered her and she saw him shake his head before he told her,

"I've been a page or knight since I was seven years old, I don't know what else I would do. If I had stayed with my parents I suppose I would have been a blacksmith or a tanner." He shook his head again, "I don't know"

He appeared almost sad and Peronell wanted very much to reach out and touch his face, as comfort, nothing more. Instead she briefly touched his arm and gave a small smile.

"Maybe one day you'll find out." She offered

"Maybe." He smiled briefly in return. "I should see you home."

She heard him utter what sounded like a sigh and seized the opportunity, "Do you have to, just yet?" Her heart was hammering in her ears, she could not believe how bold she was being.

Tristan paused and looked at her, really looked at her, "Yes I do, I don't want your father to think badly of me."

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, she didn't understand why it was important that her father think well of him. Who cared what her father thought, it was her opinion that mattered!

"Don't be upset with me." He said, watching her carefully, then he turned to lead her home, his stallion following close beside him.

As they approached her home Tristan paused in the shadows thrown by surrounding buildings. Turning to her he placed his hands under her elbows, pulling her closer to him. She could see his eyes moving over her face and she was certain she could feel his fingers moving from her elbows to her waist. Her heart was racing and she was sure he must be able hear it. He was almost close enough to feel it, she wish he was. Nell wasn't sure if he was about to kiss her then or not but at that exact moment she heard Bors roar close by and the sound of men's voices approaching quickly broke the spell that had been held between them.

Tristan dropped his head with a shake and a sigh and stepped back a bit, releasing her elbows but as he did so he allowed the fingers of one hand to trail along the inside of her palm, the most gentle of strokes. The blood rushed through her head and Peronell had to take a deep breath to steady herself.

"Goodnight." Tristan said quietly.

"Goodnight," a whisper was all she could manage, as she turned and walked towards her home. She could see him watch until she was over the threshold and then he turned and walked away, the stallion by his side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Opening her eyes slowly, Peronell stared into the early morning light that was softly filtering through the small cracks in the wall of her home. Around her she could hear the soft breathing and occasional snores from her family and she knew that soon her mother and father would be up. Very carefully she crawled out of the bed she shared with Ysmay, not wanting to wake her sister. She moved through the home, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and running her fingers through her hair to try and bring some order to it.

She moved to the door, grabbing her cloak off the hook near the entrance, and wrapping it around the the linen shift she slept in. The soft, warm scent of summer mornings drifted into the home as she carefully opened the door. It was always easier to open during the drier months and she slipped out without waking the others. Nell perched herself on the bales of hay that were stacked at the front of the house and wrapping her cloak around her, rested her chin in her palm, quietly taking in the world around her.

"Good morning lady" Dagonet quietly greeted her.

Peronell turned her head and smiled at the giant as he rode past with the rest of the evening patrol. There were so many people arriving at the fort for the festival that Arthur had though it wise to include at least on knight on each patrol, to ensure order was maintained and no surprise attacks slipped past.

"Good morning Sir, I hope your evening was quiet." She replied, her voice to husky with sleep. Dagonet was a kind man, despite his enormous size. He was adored by most and feared by the rest, typically those who had crossed him at some point in their lives.

The other soldiers nodded politely as they moved past, eager to return to their beds after a long night. It had been a quiet evening but being in a heightened state of alert for 10 hours took a toll on the body.

From behind her Peronell could hear the door creak open and suddenly felt two little arms wrap around her waist. Looking to her right she saw her little sister's sleepy face beaming up at her.

"Good morning Sybbyl" She said, stroking matted hair off the little face. "Come sit quietly for a bit." She hoisted her sister up beside her and the two of them sat in silence for a time.

"Momma says I have to bathe today." Sybbyl whimpered.

"Oh, it is bath day isn't it?" Peronell knew this day was coming, as it did every month. It was usually sufficient to just douse the children in water if they got dirty but once a month they had an actually scrub down, complete with soap and tears. It was Peronell's unlucky task to dole out this punishment of sorts. It was likely that her mother hoped to find opportunities for employment for her children, either as servants or as apprentices. Clean faces and hands created a good impression.

"Alright, let's get this day started shall we? "Peronell said, grabbing the proverbial bull by the horns. "Break fast first and then we'll bath you all at once."

* * *

The light was growing stronger now that the sun was creeping through the sky. Animals were making noises, looking for food. Visiting soldiers and knights were emerging from makeshift beds that were rigged up on bales of hay or furs, some looking considerably worse for wear. As her mother prepared the morning meal, Peronell looked around for the piece of leather and soap she would use to scrub the children until they were pink and clean.

"Over there," her mother gestured with her chin, "The soap is in that bucket. I made a fresh batch last night. Make sure you get them very clean mind you. Ears, necks, hair, bottom. I want them presentable for at least one day."

"Where are their shifts?" Peronell asked. She and her mother has washed all the shifts last night before bed and left them to dry over night.

"They'll be dry by mid-day, there was a heavy dew last night."

After breakfast, Peronell made her way to the seamstress's shop to make sure no help was needed. It was pointless to bath the children until they had something clean and dry to put on afterwards.

"Good morning Alys," Peronell called into the stall, "How are you this morning?"

"Well, thank you. We don't have too much mending yet however I think we'll find ourselves very busy by afternoon tomorrow and the following day." She eyed Peronell. "Will I have your services available?" she asked. "I'll need all the help I can get."

Peronell thought back to her mother's declaration that she would be in charge of the children and decided she could put it all on her sister's shoulders. This was more important.

"Of course I will make myself available to you mistress. Will we stay here then?"

"No, as long as I can find you easily I will come and get you when or if I need you. No running off to some dark corner now, no hiding away with your dark eyed suitor!" She winked at Peronell and then laughed at the horrified look on her face. "Oh ho! I was only teasing but maybe I'm not far off the mark, judging from the look on your face!"

"No, I am not being....I don't believe that any one person is.......perusing me. As it were."

"Does he seek you out?" Alys asked

"Sometimes."

"Does he look deeply into your eyes?" Alys continued

"Yes, only recently though."

"Has he kissed you?!" Alys was now quite curious and she sat very close to Peronell.

"NO!" Peronell retorted, a little embarrassed at the brazen questioning she was receiving. "Well, I mean I think......he may have been about to last evening, only we were interrupted. I'm not sure really."

"Ah young love," Alys sighed, with a gentle teasing tone. "So much uncertainty, so much passion. I miss those days sometimes." Alys had been married for over 10 years but had very young children. Peronell couldn't imagine that the relationship was lacking that much in passion

"It's not love." Peronell tried to explain. "I'm not even sure if he cares that much. He's hardly around and he's not really one to express himself. It's all very confusing."

Alys' eyes flew open in shock and delight. "Oh my, it's Tristan isn't it?" Alys was practically dancing she was so excited.

"Shhhhhhhh" the young girl begged. "Please don't spread rumours, I could be humiliated."

"Relax Nell," Alys sat back down and patted her hand reassuringly. "Your secret is safe with me. Besides, Tristan isn't the type to express interest in anything unless he plans on claiming it. He's a tracker. He finds what he wants, observes it for a time and then goes after it." She explained, "and you're it." With a kiss on the forehead Alys stood up and headed over to the loom where she was working on a tunic.

"Don't worry my dear, just follow his lead."

Still feeling slightly mortified, Nell picked up some mending and got to work.

* * *

Just before mid-day Peronell headed back to her home to collect her siblings for bath time. She had managed to loop her brother in as well to make the task easier. At least he was old enough now to take care of himself. He would likely bath with the men later.

"Alright, this is what we'll do," Peronell explained as they marched over to the creek near the front of the inner wall, wee ones in tow. "Get them to strip down, douse them in water and scrub them with the leather and I'll administer the soap and final rinse off." The precision required in this task was akin to a military procedure. Things had to go in order and smoothly or it would all go horribly array!

Arriving at the creek the three washers stripped down to their linens to ensure that they didn't get their wool outer clothing wet. This was an event were Peronell, Fendrel and Ysmay were likely to get just as wet as the siblings who were being bathed.

"No, I don't want.."

"Oww, that's too hard Fen!"

"Don't pull my hair so much!"

"I have soap in my eyes."

"NOOOOO.......!"

The whole event took at least half an hour and when it was all said and done Peronell rested her head in her hands taking a rest as her siblings dressed. She heard deep laughter off to her side and turned her head to see Gawain nearby.

"Looks like you've had quite the time," he said, an amused smile spreading across her face.

"I'll trade you for Woads." she offered.

"Oh no no, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the chance to spend time with your brother's and sister's. These are precious moments you know." He affected a serious look on his face before smiling again. "You're halfway there yourself," he noted, gesturing to her clothing with his chin.

She looked down and realized her shift was splattered n water, drenched in some places

"And the.......in your hair." Gawain gestured.

Touching her hair she could feel residual soap in a variety of places. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Later, when they're done with, that's when I get my turn."

"Hmmm, I'll be sure to let concerned parties know." he said, raising his eyebrows quickly, causing Peronell to regard him suspiciously.

He turned and made to leave, looking over his shoulder as he went, long enough to see Peronell narrow her eyes at him. This only succeeded in making him laugh harder.

"What was that all about?" Fendrel asked as he came up beside his sister. He may have been younger by two years but he was still protective of her and tried to watch out for her whenever he could.

"Nothing, he's being silly." She answered. "Come one, everyone back home, let's go."

* * *

It seemed many people had the same idea that day as the creek was full of small children, mothers and eldest daughters trying to get clean. The bath stalls were also busy but not as busy as they would be tomorrow. Peronell and her mother waited until later in the afternoon for their baths as they required the use of the stalls. It was last year that her mother decided it was no longer decent for Peronell to bath in the creek. She had become a young woman with all the curves and softness that comes with it. Men could not be trusted to keep their eyes to themselves anymore, her mother had explained.

As her mother scrubbed Peronell's back she could not help remembering how tiny her eldest daughter had been when she was born. The small little hands and feet, the tiny nose, she was perfection from the moment she was brought into this world. She realised Nell was almost the same age she was when Nell was born.

"Peronell, you know that you are at the age where you are free to marry" her mother enquired, not sure how much Peronell had learned from her friends.

"I do," Nell responded hesitantly.

"And you know that there are many young men that have expressed an interest in you?"

"No, I have not seen that at all." Nell replied, tilting her head back so her mother could wash her hair.

"I know you haven't seen it, but it true. Your father has had several inquiries." She informed her daughter.

Peronell didn't say anything, just waited for her mother to continue.

"Your father and I have decided to allow you some time to make a choice for yourself. After all that's how he came to me, "Beatrix explained, smiling at the memories. "but you must choose carefully, and wisely. Watch how a man behaves towards people below his standing and above. Is he cruel? Indifferent? Does he help others? Marriage is an important decision and often these festivals are where people find each other." She paused, trying to let the information sink in.

Peronell bit her lip and weighed the consequences of what she wanted to say.

"What if it were to be a knight?" She asked tentatively.

"A knight is a fine choice," Her mother said, pleased," They are well raised, trained and skilled. As long as you can accept that his life will be in danger whenever he leaves the fort and there may be times when he is gone for long periods of time."

Peronell nodded slowly, thinking things over

"Anyone in particular?" her mother enquired, rinsing the soap out of her own hair and her daughter's.

"No no, just wondering." Peronell quickly responded.

She didn't see the smile on her mother's face at her reaction. Beatrix remembered acting the exact same way when she first met Borin, uncertain and not willing to share her feelings with anyone of consequence.

"Alright then. Dry off, grab your cloak and let's head home. There is still more to do" Her mother said.

As she and her mother walked back Peronell saw Tristan, Galahad and Gawain emerge from the creek, laughing at something. Their hair was still dripping wet and none of them had their tunics on, only their pants for decency. Glancing over at Tristan her breath caught. He was not grossly muscular but it was clear he was not unaccustomed to hard physical labour. His body looked strong and well developed. When he turned to pick up his tunic she could see roping scars on his back, likely from a whip and there were several scars on his chest that looked as though they were caused by a blade. Gawain said something quietly causing Tristan to turn his head, first to Gawain and Galahad and then toward Peronell. His eyes took her in, covered only by her woollen cloak, her hair hanging half way down her back in soft, damp waves.

He did not move, only continued to look at her until Galahad nudged him in the arm, all the while trying to divert his eyes from Peronell's form.

"Hmmrmm" she heard her mother clear her throat, several paces in front of her.

"Peronell, it is not polite to torture men, they have limited will power. Good evening gentlemen." She called out, forcing them to see her. At the same time she reached an arm out for her daughter, indicating that she was to walk with her.

"Don't tease my love, even though you're good at it." She said with a smile, knowing now precisely which knight her daughter had been asking about.

The knight's remained where they were, still drying off.

"I wouldn't have picked her out as the type you would be interested in Tristan," Galahad teased. "She's gorgeous of course, but more......friendly? Lively? Young? Than I pictured you with."

"Well you aren't known for seeing everything there is to see, are you?" The scout retorted. "That's my job." He grabbed his tunic off the branch, slipped his linen undershirt on and walked away.

Gawain and Galahad remained for a moment chuckling. "I wouldn't recommend teasing him too much Galahad. " Gawain advised. "Even after all these years I don't know precisely how far Tristan can be pushed before he reacts."

"Oh come on, let me have a little fun! This never happens!" Galahad begged as they moved away, following Tristan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The festival had unofficially begun. Throughout the whole day people had been making final preparations. The jousting rings had been set up just outside of the fort and other areas had been marked off for mock combat, archery and pony races for small children. Every room in the inn was occupied and there were others who chose to simply sleep outside. It seemed the fort was bursting at its seams, which caused Arthur some stress in regards for maintaining peace and order, but greatly pleased everyone else.

Venora and all of her ladies were being run off her feet for all the demands for ale and wine and they had bought more from the brew master just to ensure they didn't run out half way through the night. She could not even fathom what the next night would be like, when the official festival dinner would be held. It wasn't just that there were knights from other towns that had arrived, families were allowing their younger children to be at the tavern during this special time and the demands on her serving staff had more than tripled. Bors was wisely staying out of the way, with a baby in one arm and a toddler on his knee, mug of ale in hand.

Peronell and some of the other girls her age were sitting off to the side, watching everything that was going on. They laughed at the men falling over from too much ale, eyeing those who caught their attention. The hope was that one, or more, young men would ask for a token to wear in their competitions the next day, a sign that they were seeking that lady's favour.

"I wish Lancelot would ask me for ribbon," one girl sighed, trying desperately not to stare directly at the handsome knight. He was much desired by the female population and it was well known that he loved them all just as much.

"Hmm mm," her other friend, Helena shook her head, "I prefer Galahad, he's so sweet and kind......and he's not old." She smiled, biting her lip as she teased her friend.

"Oh stop you.....horrid thing." Her friend reached over and playfully smacked her, the other girls laughed in return. Whether intentional or not, it did have the effect of bringing attention to them and Peronell noticed that Galahad turned and looked at Helena, winking as he smiled at her. She immediately blushed almost the exact shade of her hair

Peronell smiled at her red-haired friend. "You'll have to walk away from us if you want him to approach you," she whispered. "Go ask for some more mead." She suggested

"Not alone," Helena hissed at her, looking horrified "You come with me!"

Sighing, Peronell got up and asked if any of her friends wanted more mead. They had asked for ale earlier but Venora had scoffed at that suggestion and told them the ale was for the men tonight. She took Helena's hand and they made their way across the tavern, threading between the men as they went, attracting much attention. This was not the night for their best clothing but the women were all dressed a little nicer than usual. Her mother had given Peronell a sort of dark blue fitted vest to wear over her tunic, explaining that Peronell, like herself, needed something a bit more than just a tunic. It laced up the back and fit quite snugly but her mother seemed pleased with the results. It did have the effect of creating a dramatic contrast between her small waist and her growing bust, the latter adding to the attention she typically received.

As she and Helena passed by a table of men one of them reached out and pulled her into his lap. She looked shocked but wasn't sure what to do other than smack at his hands.

"Let me go, I don't appreciate you mauling me when I barely know you!" She whipped around in his lap and slapped him as hard as she could. The crowd roared in laughter and she stood up and faced him, hands on her hips.

"That should teach you," one of the local men called out, "Don't mess with our women, big or small!!" Laughter echoed through the tavern and Peronell and Helena ducked their heads, smiling, as they moved towards the bar.

They hadn't gone more than 20 feet when another group of men moved into their path, the same men from only a few nights before. Looking the girls up and down, licking their lips as though they were animals, nothing had changed. Peronell pulled back a bit in disgust, her skin practically crawling.

Suddenly she felt herself being pulled down into someone's lap. She twisted around preparing to slap her offender and realised in time that it was Tristan. Her face was very close to his, she could smell the ashwood and oil from the soap he had used, tinged with smoke from the fires.

"I thought it would be easier to simply avoid another altercation with those men, don't you think?" He suggested.

Peronell could only nod her head in reply as Tristan picked her up and moved her a bit closer, to a more comfortable position. Helena, who found herself in Galahad's lap, seemed quite comfortable with the arrangement. They both looked back in the direction they had come and shrugged at the remaining girls, who were looking at them slack-jawed with jealousy and admiration. Tristan kept his arm loosely draped across her lap, resting low on her hip but continued to talk with Jones who was sitting beside him. Peronell felt her heartbeat slow a bit as the adrenaline subsided in her body.

"You have no drink," Lancelot noted, "that is a crime in some places you know." He located two mugs and filling them with ale, passed them to the girls. They both started to object but were silenced by Lancelot shaking his head.

"To life and passion," he said, raising his mug, everyone joined him in the toast.

Peronell wriggled around a bit, shifting herself slightly so that she could see everyone at the table, and she heard Tristan take a sharp breath.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked quickly, not wanting to have to give up her spot.

"No, not exactly" He answered, he had an unreadable expression his face. Not pain but something similar.

The knights roared in laughter, almost falling out of their chairs. Peronell just looked at Helena, confused.

"I'll explain some other time."Tristan said, trying not to laugh as well.

"In great detail I'm sure!" Bors taunted.

She looked over at Helena who suddenly raised her hand to her face, eyes wide in surprise and laughter. Peronell closed her eyes and felt her entire face flush red. She dropped her eyes, trying to hide as she finally understood what the men were laughing about. She made to get up, wanting to leave but Tristan tightened his arm around her waist.

"Relax," His voice was light in amusement. "They're laughing at me, not you." His breath was so close it sent shivers down her spine.

The evening continued on, with much noise and music. The other girls came by for a bit but did not receive the same attention as Peronell and Helena and left. She was vaguely aware that her brother was very close by, only one table away, keeping an eye on her but not intruding. She smiled at him to let him know everything was fine and he nodded in return. She could not remember when she had seen so many people in the tavern. Helena was trying to say something to her but it was so loud she couldn't hear. As she leaned further forward to hear what her friend was saying her hips shifted back and she felt Tristan's hand tighten on her hip, instinctively pulling her back. She looked over her shoulder at him and was almost knocked breathless by the intensity in his eyes. She smiled at him, a questioning look on her face but she got no response, instead she looked back at her friend, just in time to see Galahad turn her gently by her chin and kiss her.

For one must have been the thousandth time that evening Bors roared in laughter, thumping Galahad on the back, narrowly missing a major collision of teeth in the process. Galahad only smiled and shook his head, and then carried on. Peronell laughed with the others, knowing her friend was probably happier than she had ever been. As the spectacle was carrying on directly in front of her she sought out a diversion to one side or the other, however most of the men were occupied with their own companions. She turned around and smiled at Tristan.

"I'm sorry gentlemen but I'm going to have to join your conversation, I find myself in a very awkward situation here." He and Jones looked around her and taking in the sights, gave their heads a shake and welcomed her opinion on the conversation at hand

About an hour later Fendrel came by the table,

"Sister, are you coming home with me?" She could tell him was trying to be polite but also assert himself to the men, as a brother would.

Peronell thought about it for a moment and decided that she would rather stay a bit long.

"I will come home soon," she promised, "but not just yet."

Her brother looked conflicted, unsure as to whether he could, or should demand she come with him. His parents had left not long ago but they didn't seem overly concerned about their children being in harm's way.

"Alright," Fendrel said slowly, "Wake me when you return though, so I know you're home safely." He looked at Tristan and managed to look just like his father. "I trust you will behave yourself and see my sister home?" It wasn't a question.

Tristan smiled at the boy, "I will."

"Don't worry boy, she's in good hands." Lancelot said, a smile playing about his lips. Nell felt Tristan kick him soundly underneath the table.

Peronell smiled at her brother reassuringly and sent him on his way.

* * *

An hour or more had past and Peronell realized the late hour. Although they were by no means the last people in the tavern, she had not been up so late in a long time. Looking around she realized that Galahad and Helena were nowhere to be seen. She turned her head around searching the crowd, concerned that she hadn't noticed them leaving.

"She's safe, Galahad is with her." Tristan reassured her.

"That's what I'm worried about." She retorted, turning to the side so that they could speak face to face.

"He won't hurt her; he seemed quite fond of her from the look of it."

"Hmmm, tonight he is." She said, looking at Tristan with some doubt.

"No, that is not Galahad's way." Tristan shook his head casually, "He isn't careless as some." And he peered around Peronell to look at Lancelot, who was focused on the young woman beside him.

"And you?" Peronell asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer, "Are you careless, like Lancelot?"

Tristan looked at her thoughtfully,

"No I am not careless" he answered, "I do only what I intend to do."

Peronell smiled then. They were so close; she wanted him to kiss her so badly but not in front of the crowd. They were breathing at the same time, creating a barrier between them and everyone else, blocking everything but each other.

"I think we should leave this tavern." Tristan said quietly, so that only she could hear.

Peronell nodded in agreement and stood up, Tristan's hand still on her hip. He took a final swig of ale, nodded to the remaining knights and turned to leave the tavern, placing Peronell's hand in the crook of his arm.

They made it no more than 30 feet from the tavern when Tristan turned Peronell to face him. He let his left arm drift down to her waist, his hand on the small of her back and he lifted his right hand and placed it gently but firmly on the back of her neck. He paused there, allowing the moment to hang suspended in the night air. Her heart was racing again; it was always racing when he was near her, touching her. She felt his arms pull her in, tightening on her waist and then, ever so gently, he kissed her lips.

It was in indescribable feeling. Peronell was certain she would faint for the lack of blood in her head, for all of it was rushing to her lips and further down. He paused, keeping his head close to hers but not allowing their lips to touch, it was torture. When he finally gave in and kissed her again, the passion was so strong it was almost blinding in ferociousness. Peronell moved her arms up and around his neck as Tristan pulled her closer still, locking her to him. He let his lips move over her, up to her temples where her pulse was beating uncontrollably, across her smooth forehead. She could hear his breath, ragged as hers as he moved his lips over her ear, gently nibbling before moving to her neck. He was both gentle and demanding, he held her so close she could barely breathe and yet the tiny nips and bites he laid on her neck were so gentle. The contrast in sensations was driving her mad. When their lips met again the passion was even stronger than before. This went on for what felt like hours or days. It wasn't until Peronell quite literally almost fainted that they paused to catch their breath.

She could not speak, nor stand it appeared. He picked her up and carried her over to some bales of hay that were nearby and set her down gently. He tilted his head up to the sky and smiled but he did it in such a way that Peronell got the impression it was meant to be a private emotion. Looking down at her he picked her up again and sat down himself, setting her in his lap.

He appeared to want to say something but didn't know how to start. Peronell looked at him gently, not wanting to discourage him; he spoke so seldom as it was. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Where have you been?" He asked

"Right here, I've always been here." She replied

"So will you stay." He did not ask, he was telling her. Alys had been right.

Peronell was enjoying this moment, taking the time to calm her emotions and gain control of her thoughts while still being so close to him.

"You haven't asked for a token of mine for the tournament," Peronell teased, laying her head on his shoulder.

"What for?" Tristan questioned, sounding confused

"To show whose favour you hope to win," Nell explained, "Many of the competitors are doing it."

"I would think it would quite obvious whose favour I hope to win." Tristan replied, "Though if you think it would help, I will go and ask your father for one of his scarves before I compete tomorrow."

Peronell pulled back and looked at him, laughing, clucking her tongue, "Cheeky man, you know what I mean." She hit him lightly on the chest.

"Why does it matter if I wear a token of yours?" He pulled her face up to look her in the eyes, "Do you not already know that you belong to me and me to you?"

Peronell smiled at him then and kissed him again, slowly and gently. She heard a moan come from deep inside him and she tightened her arms around him, turning her body so that it was directly opposite his. He stopped her. She pulled back and looked at him, not understanding why he wasn't letting her continue.

"I have strength, a great deal of it but if you wrap your legs around me......you cannot ask me to be that strong." Tristan said to her, shaking his head in determination. "My god, what am I saying?!" He eyes opened and he kissed her again, as gently and tenderly as she had just kissed him and the passion mounted again, even faster than before. Again he stopped, this time putting his hands up between them

"You are a danger to me," he told her, laughing a bit. "I need take you home." He lifted her up off his lap and stood up, taking a deep breath of air and walking around a bit.

Peronell looked at him with a smile on her face but confused.

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't, you can't." He rubbed his face with his hand, looking frustrated and annoyed but not at her. "There will come a time when I will not take you home," he told her, "but that is not tonight. Tonight you return to your parent's home."

She tilted her head slightly, her delicate eyebrows knitting together, still confused as to why he looked upset. "Alright." She agreed

Tristan opened his arm up to her, wrapping her in close beside him as he walked her home. When they reached her home, he turned her to face him, smoothing back her hair from her face. She stood up on her toes to reach his lips and he responded with a deep kiss, pulling her to him again. When they broke apart he shook his head at her, a smirk on his face.

"Go." He mouthed the word so as not to wake her family, moving her towards the house.

She turned around as she crossed the threshold and saw him still standing there, looking at her. Smiling back at him she closed the door, crept to her room and slipping off her woollen dress, got into bed and was immediately asleep, a smile on her face.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Thank you all for your encouragment, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you feel I could improve on or something I'm missing. I welcome the feedback!_**

**_Cheers_**

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**Chapter 7**

Peronell woke up to her little siblings leaping on the bed with great enthusiasm. The day of the festival had finally arrived and the excitement was running high. She shooed the children off her so that she could get up and dressed, realizing that even though she was exhausted, she was the happiest she had been in ages. Finally, FINALLY she understood what all the fuss was about. All the sonnets she had heard, all the songs the troubadours sang. If this was how Venora and Bors felt about each other she understood why Venora waited for him, no matter how long he was gone for. She hopped out of bed, pulled her woollen dress over her head and walked through the door to the eating area where Ysmay was preparing the meal, her mother quietly, cautiously, directing her from a chair.

She looked at her mother suspiciously.

"Are you alright?" she asked her mother. She was pale and if Nell didn't know better, she would compare her mother's appearance to how she looked in the deep throws of a rough pregnancy.

"Hmmm," her mother responded. "I'll be fine. Just keep the children quiet for a bit please."

Peronell smiled at her mother, realizing that this was nothing more the horrendous after affect of a night of revelry.

"Take your father and brother some food." She gestured behind her in the rough direction of the Smithy. "They've already been up for several hours and your father is not feeling well."

* * *

A hot blast of air hit Peronell in the face as she entered the Smithy. Both men were sweating heavily from the effort and neither looked to be in a particularly fine mood. Nell grimaced a bit, glad she had not taken full advantage of the ale that she had been offered last night; the results did not look worth it. "Good morning sister, " Fendrel greeted her as he entered the home. "I'm glad to see you made it home safely last night. "He whispered at her quietly as she passed him his meal. "You were supposed to wake me."

"I didn't want to disturb you, clearly I am fine and can we please discuss this later?" she pleaded.

Her father was busy finishing up armour that was needed for later in the day and ensuring that each and every blade was sharp enough for use but dull enough to keep fatalities at a minimum.

"You can put mine over there." Her father told her without taking his eyes of the sword in his gloved hand. "I'll eat it later." Peronell nodded, not saying anything. She wasn't sure if her father knew the late hour she had arrived home and she wasn't sure how he would respond if he did. There were saddles, armour, lances and blades everywhere, with hardly any room to move. This didn't seem the appropriate time to discuss a delicate matter with him.

Helena arrived at Nell's front entrance shortly thereafter, siblings in tow. The girls had agreed that two sets of eyes were better than one, and this way they could entertain each other. With any luck they would be able find meet up with Elisabeth, Mary and Sybbyl as well. When Helena arrived she just looked at Peronell, blue eyes enormous and a shining smile on her face. Everything that happened last night was practically written on her face her expression was so clear.

"Good morning Helena," Peronell said with a matching smile on her face. "How are you this morning?" Both girls looked like they were about to burst from excitement.

"Honestly you two," Nell's mother said, her voice still husky from the hangover," I had no idea you would be so excited about this tournament. It's as though you're only 10!"

"There's just so much to see and do, it's been ages since we've seen a tournament." Helena explained, modifying the truth as needed. Peronell nodded in agreement.

"Well, don't forget your responsibilities," Beatrix reminded them. "and don't forget that you should clean yourselves up a bit for the formal dinner. There are will be lots of eligible young men here and it's time you two started considering these matters."

"Of course."

"Yes."

Both girls nodded with mock severity at the advice. They would certainly be taking a great deal of care this evening when preparing for dinner; that much they could promise. They gathered all the children together and headed out, with the intention of watching as many events as possible. As they walked along they discussed the events of the night before, each equally excited and eager to discuss what had happened. Once their friends joined them they had to replay the entire evening. Mary, Sybbyl and Elisabeth were incredibly jealous but as they had just received requests for tokens from some of the young men competing, they were not entirely heartbroken.

"I never understood why my sister loved the tournaments so much," Elisabeth said, "I think I understand now!"

* * *

Although they all kept a close eye on their younger brothers and sisters, they also kept their eyes open for the various young men that had caught their attention. Sybbyl wanted to find out what order the knights were competing in the mock combats, whereas both Helena and Peronell were determined to see the archery and falconry competitions. The girls agreed to split up for a bit, planning on meeting up again at mid-day. There were throngs of people everywhere, more visitors and competitors must have arrived in the early morning.

The tournament was always an incredibly busy event, there were competitions happening simultaneously and knights rushed from one event to the other, trying to acquire as many points as possible. It was almost impossible for the girls to keep an eye on all of their wards but the benefit of living in the fort was that there were only so many places one could go and everyone seemed to know everyone else's children. It was a very secure environment, once you were inside.

The girls got as close as they could to where the knights were competing in the archery pit and Nell could see Tristan standing casually off to the side, taking in the competitors. He didn't speak with anyone, though several of the young men tried to engage him in conversation. After Galahad had taken his aim, he walked over to Tristan and made a comment that made Tristan scoff and smirk at the younger knight.

Tristan approached the mark and pulled his bow back, aiming higher than others had. The crowd was completely silent.

"That's too high. He'll miss the mark by a mile." Helena whispered.

Peronell shook her head, confident in his abilities. As he released the string, his arrow flew through the air, arching high in the sky before finding its mark perfectly, almost knocking Galahad's arrow out in the process.

The younger knight, looked at Tristan with a combination of admiration and disdain.

"One day Tristan, I am going to beat you, one way or another."

"Yeah, yeah, you have too much left to learn. It will be a while yet." Tristan smirked at the young knight and quietly waited to hear the results, though he knew he had won. He looked around the crowd of faces until he found Peronell, flashing her a quick smile but nothing more. He left the area as soon as the prizes were awarded, not looking back at Peronell.

Helena and Peronell looked at each other, equally confused by Tristan's behaviour.

"Maybe he's just focused," Helena offered. "It's important that the knights do well today and you know Tristan says no more than 5 words in a day." She tried gently teasing to make her friend feel a bit better. Helena hadn't received much better from Galahad but she also knew he had to hurry to the mock combat competitions. A wink and a smile were all he had time for.

Although the girls wanted to be able to watch each of the competitions, with 12 children between them it was not a reality. They had regrouped with their friends to find some food at mid-day and they decided to watch whatever the majority chose as this was simply the easier choice. As there were more brothers than sisters, the event they spent the better part of two hours watching was jousting, though Helena did sneak off for a bit to watch Galahad in the mock combat event.

Peronell feigned interest in the jousting; it was likely her least favourite event as there didn't seem to be a point to it. Why charge at a man fully armed just to see who could knock the other man off their horse first? Where was the skill in that? However Lancelot and Gawain were both entered so it was not a complete waste of time.

"Peronell!" She heard Helena shout her name from behind the stands, "Your brother is entered in the mock combat!"

"What?! You must be joking," she demanded, certain Helena was mistaken but the girl only shook her head rapidly, eyes wide. Peronell looked at the other girls in horror. She left her siblings with them and slipped in between the seats, dropping to ground beside Helena.

"He's too small, he can't win." Peronell said breathlessly as she and Helena raced back to where the combat competitions were taking place.

"Actually, he beat a man bigger than him just a moment ago," Helena informed her, "He's not bad."

"Really?" Peronell looked sharply at her friend and slammed into Dagonet's back in the process. The giant hardly moved.

"Have you come to see your brother?" Dagonet asked her, looking down from his massive height. They had arrived at the combat rings and the crowd was three bodies deep.

"Or pick up the pieces; I'm not really sure which." Peronell answered, smiling but feeling very apprehensive. She knew Fendrel had been practicing, her father had insisted on it, but he had not yet reached his full size and there were grown men entered in this competition.

"Relax, he will be fine." Dagonet placed a large hand on her head in a comforting gesture. He could not be much older than Tristan but she had always regarded Dagonet as a kindly, big brother type of man.

"Oh it's his turn again," Helena informed her in a frantic tone, clutching Peronell's arm. The names were all listed on a wooden sign, to be switched around depending on their standing in the competition.

"Can you see?" Dagonet asked Peronell.

She shook her head. She was standing on her toes but with three layers of bodies already trying to see the ring it was almost impossible to get a view. Dagonet reached down and picked her up, resting her on his shoulder; it seemed to take him no effort at all, so great was their size difference.

Peronell's heart was in her throat she was so nervous. She watched as her brother ducked and dodged, driving his sword at his opponent and blocking the returning blows. She saw him snarl and the next time he turned she could see a crimson stain spreading across his side.

"Oh, he's hurt!" She cried out, scrambling to try and get down from Dagonet's shoulder, "I need to be there!"

"He's fine." She looked down and saw Tristan standing beside Dagonet, carefully watching Fendrel.

She looked at him as though he had gone mad.

"He's not injured, it's only a small wound," Tristan explained. "Let him continue."

Peronell didn't know what to say in reply. Helena was looking from Peronell to Tristan, expecting to see another battle right in front of her eyes. Peronell was not, by nature, an aggressive person, but she loved her family dearly and she wasn't accustomed to warfare, not so close at least. Dagonet maintained his hold on Peronell, acting as though no interaction had taken place. Both men were intently watching Fendrel, curious to see how he proceeded. In the end he lost the fight but his skill and determination were noted by the announcer and everyone applauded his effort.

Dagonet carefully placed Peronell back down on the ground and suggested to Helena that perhaps she should find Galahad, leaving Tristan and Peronell alone.

"You are upset," Tristan acutely observed.

"Yes, I am. How can you expect me to stay calm when my younger brother is in the ring with a man twice his size, bleeding everywhere?!"

"You need to understand how your reaction could have affected your brother."Tristan explained calmly. "He needed to focus on what was happening in front of him. If he was in a battle there would be hundreds of things that he would be trying to watch, all the while trying to stay alive. You have let him focus."

Peronell looked at the knight, not wanting to agree with him but understanding what he was saying.

"A battle would be different, this is only a competition." She retorted.

"It is preparation for battle; you must treat it as if it is the same thing." He replied.

Peronell was quiet for a moment, looking around, not wanting to look at Tristan. She was still feeling a bit hurt that he had not spoken to her until just now

"Do you not trust me?" he asked her.

She raised her head, a look of surprise on her face, "Of course I trust you," she said

"Do you trust your brother?" he asked

"That I'm not so sure of." She said. He shook his head and looked down at her. He very much wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms and kiss those lips. The scent of honey and sandalwood still hovered around her, enticing him but he would not. He didn't want to demonstrate any weakness amongst so many unknown men and he had not yet spoken to her father to determine whether Peronell was even available to be pursued.

"I have to go. I will see you this evening." He turned to go, with still no indication of his feelings from the previous night. His behaviour was quite literally like night and day and Peronell closed her eyes briefly so that he wouldn't see that she was hurt. Then she felt his hand around hers, his fingers caressing her palm as he passed by, not stopping his steps but not hurrying either. He looked slightly to his right, catching her eye and then he was gone.

Peronell smiled slightly. He was not Galahad, nor Lancelot, who were obvious in their affections. He was careful and deliberate in his actions in every aspect of his life, this evidently applied also to love. She would have to accept it or move on.

* * *

The official tournament banquet would be held outside, as there was no indoor area to hold everyone. The women had spent days cooking and preparing the food and the men, those not competing, had spent the day setting up tables, chairs and torches to ensure there was adequate light for the meal.

Peronell slipped her dark green tunic over her head and if fell softly over her hips. This was her formal gown, not much different from her everyday tunic but it was rarely worn and had a deeper neckline with embroidery that Alys had hand-stitched herself. It was a far cry from the gowns that noble women wore but to Peronell it was just as good.

"I don't understand why I don't get to go," Ysmay complained, "It's not fair, I'm only 4 years younger than you."

"I had wait too Ysamy," Nell reminded her. "Helena, Sybbyl, Elisabeth and I looked after all the children for years. You'll have your turn in two more years. Besides it's not as if you won't be close by, you might even get to dance." Peronell remembered how much she wanted to go to the banquet and sit with the adults but it was only in the last two years that she had been allowed to go.

"I'm still not sure how I will breath normally wearing this bodice." The golden coloured garment hugged her torso closely, pushing her bust up but also providing support that was needed. It was not a comfortable device but it did give her a very feminine shape.

Her mother popped her head around the curtain hanging over the doorframe and looked at her eldest child. Her long brown hair fell in soft shining waves around her shoulders and down her back, her skin glowed from youth and happiness and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Beatrix could not imagine the home without her daughter in it but knew that was a reality she would have to face sooner than later.

"Peronell, your father would like a word with you before we go." As her daughter passed, she stopped her, stroking her hair with her hands before placing them on either side of her child's face.

Nell turned and looked at her mother, trying to get an idea of what her father wanted to speak to her about. When she entered the living area her father looked up. She thought she saw sadness in his eyes but it was quickly gone.

"You look lovely daughter," her father observed, "Come, turn around, let me see what a beauty your mother and I created." Smiling at him, Peronell spun around, the dress billowing slightly in the movement. He nodded his approval, pursing his lips in thought as he stood up.

"Come and walk with me while your mother prepares." He held his arm to Peronell and she gladly took it. It was so seldom that he ever had time for his children, especially time for just one, she reached for his arm without hesitation.

They walked around outside, the soft summer wind moving about them occasionally. The heat of the day had dropped to a more balmy temperature and the sun was beginning to slink towards the horizon.

A man of few words, Nell's father walked in silence for some time, breaking the silence to ask her if she was studying hard to learn all Alys had to teach her, behaving herself and paying close attention. She promised she was but knew that he had something else on his mind because he kept returning to silence for periods of time.

"Tristan came to find me today," her father finally stated.

Peronell came to a dead halt, "He did?" She asked, her heart pounding.

"Mmhmm," Her father tugged gently at her arm, wanting to keep moving. "It appears that he has every intention of courting you, he wanted my permission." Her father spoke slowly and carefully, he had clearly given his words some consideration.

"Oh," was all Peronell could offer in reply. "You do not approve?" she enquired, suddenly very nervous.

"It isn't really my choice to make Peronell." Her father told her. "I know your mother already spoke to you about this a bit. You have to make the choice. A knight is an honourable living but it is also a very dangerous life and you would have to accept that he may be gone for long periods of time. Death in battle is almost guaranteed." He went on, "Tristan is a quiet man; he has unique skills and abilities that have made him battle-hardened. I worry that you may find he is not the type of man you are accustomed to."

Peronell swallowed, finding it hard to speak as she listened to her father. She nodded to head.

Her father went on, "I told him that I would have to think about it, so that if you don't feel he is the right match for you, you can decline without it being your decision, in a matter of speaking." Her father explained.

"He is a good man though," Peronell defended. Although her father did not realize it, she believed he and Tristan were quite alike. Both men were quiet and hard working, focused on the task before them and unaccustomed to not getting their way.

"I do want to be with him, I want him to court me." Peronell told her father, almost frantic in case he was considering making the decision for her. "I know the risks, but I want what you and mother have, and I honestly believe I can find that with Tristan."

Her father continued walking on in silence for a time and Peronell tried not to watch him, she couldn't read his thoughts.

"Very well," he father said, nodding his head slowly. "He is a good man, I will agree with you on that, and I believe he will treat you kindly. I will let him know."

Peronell's face lit up and she wrapped her arms around her father, hugging him as tightly as she could.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hmmph," her father grunted, clearing his throat. "Well, you just remember that you can change your mind anytime. He must do right by you; I won't have it any other way."

"I know." She had a smile on her face that stretched from each to ear. "When will you tell him, do you think?" Now that she knew, she wanted Tristan to know as well.

"I will tell him as soon as I get the chance Peronell," he scolded her, "Be calm child, he's not going anywhere." Looking at her pleading face, he relented. "I will tell him as soon as I can have a moment alone with him." He gestured with open hands, showing her this was the best he could do.

Smiling again, Nell tucked her arm through her father's, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked back to their home. "Do you think he'll take me away from here," she suddenly asked. She had never been away from her family.

"I do not know Peronell, that is a risk you have to be willing to take when you wed." Her father explained. "One step at a time child, one step at a time."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

After her conversation with her father Peronell wanted nothing more than to find Helena and tell her the exciting news but her father insisted on her arriving at the banquet as a family. Once they had arrived however she was free to do as she wished.

The first thing she saw when they entered the banquet was all the Sarmation knights near the head table, dressed in their formal attire. Each knight looked slightly different, depending on where they came from, their clan or region of origin. Tristan looked very handsome, his dark leather armour carefully maintained but still showing the marks of battle. Bors armour only added more bulk to the sturdy man, making him look incredibly imposing. The Roman soldiers who were on guard also appeared to have taken greater care in their dress. Their red cloaks were brilliant in the sun and their armour gleamed from polishing. It was an impressive sight.

Despite the formality of dress, the mood was light. Children raced amongst the adult's legs, generally out of control until they were caught and firmly reprimanded by the closest adult available. All the young ladies had obviously taken care to look their very best, despite any limited means, and they each looked beautiful in their own right. Sunset was still a few hours off but the light the lowering sun cast across the grass and buildings was soft and elegant, this was one of the reasons Summer Solstice was one of Peronell's favourite festivals. This time of year brought beauty to every surface it touched.

Peronell saw Tristan look over at her when she arrived with her parents and watched as his eyes casually flicked over to her father before he returned to the conversation he was having with Dagonet and Gawain. She wanted to go to him but her father's hand on her arm said no, instead he directed her towards Helena, who had recently arrived with her family.

"Go, leave us be and stay out of trouble." He told her firmly. "Do not rush me; I will take care of matters in good time." He warned her. Her mother smiled at her and walked over to the area set aside for cooking to see what needed to be done.

Peronell went to Helena immediately and dragged her away to tell her about the conversation she and her father had. Helena's reaction was as expected, very excited for her friend but controlled, given the number of people surrounding them. They debated sharing the news with Sybbyl, Elisabeth and Mary but chose to wait until all involved parties were aware of the situation, more specifically, Tristan himself.

"Come on, let's move around," Helena suggested. "If you just wait around to see if your father talks to Tristan you will go mad." Although Peronell didn't want to admit it, she knew her friend was right. The girls wandered around the banquet area, checked on the smaller children and made sure the women didn't need any help in preparing or delivering food or wine. There was always a good hour or so prior to the meal being served when people milled around, introducing themselves to new faces or getting caught up with people they hadn't see in a year or more. It was a very relaxed environment, peaceful and rare for the times, making it that much more precious.

* * *

When dinner was announced everyone was seated and the village priest led a blessing. The Sarmation knights sat at the head table as it was, in essence, their tournament to host. Their food was brought out first and then the other tables were served, each of the tables buckling a bit under the weight of food and people. Peronell and Helena each grabbed jugs of wine and helped fill the many cups that were being rapidly drained. Although the older women waved the extra help away, both girls knew the evening would be more enjoyable if the men were fed and watered quickly. Once they had seen to everyone, they each snuck a glass of their own and sat down with their families for the meal.

Peronell turned to look at her father expectantly and he turned away from her and began speaking with the man beside him. She shot an exasperated look at Helena who was directly across from her and the girl almost choked on her wine when she started laughing.

"Patience is a virtue," her mother whispered quietly into her ear. "No man like to be hounded, remember that my dear."

Peronell let out a sigh and continued eating, pushing any thoughts of Tristan from her mind and focussed on enjoying the festival. She chatted with guests around her table, learning who won which events and who was injured. Mercifully there were no deaths this time but only by sheer luck and Dagonet's quick thinking, according to most.

There were many good-looking young men at the festival. Some were knights; most were hoping to become one by demonstrating their skills in the tournament. The Sarmation knights had found themselves the objects of everyone's attention the last two days, something that had been driving Tristan mad. He consoled himself in the fact that the festival was almost over and the masses would disperse quickly.

Peronell and Helena cast their eyes about the length of the table and saw two young men looking in their direction. Both girls met their eyes and politely smiled at them before looking away.

"Did Galahad find you after the tournament?" Peronell asked Helena in a whispered tone, even though neither Helena's mother nor father were paying the slightest bit of attention to the girls.

She nodded with a smile and the girls grinned at each other. This was an exciting time for both of them and neither knew what to expect, only what they hoped for.

* * *

In between the second and third course the awards were handed out for the most points acquired over all. It came as little surprise to the villagers that the knights won whatever competitions they entered but there were other victors as well. Although Fendrel did not win the mock combat position, he was given an honourable mention for his level of skill and Peronell, her mother and father were all incredibly proud. Arthur took a moment to speak to Fendrel afterwards and although the boy wouldn't divulge the contents of the conversation he looked very pleased and excited, his chest slightly puffed out.

Between the third and fourth course, everyone took time to stand up and stretch their legs, allowing their stomach's to digest. This was one of the only times that Peronell was not sure if she would be able to eat all the food presented to her. Both at Summer Solstice and Michaelmas, there were numerous courses of food. The women had been planning and organizing this for weeks. It was an impressive feat.

Elisabeth and Sybbyl came over to join Helena and Peronell when their parents vacated their seats. All four girls talked about the festival, the young men they had met and who they thought might form a match from this festival.

In the midst of this discussion, the young men that the girls had smiled at earlier made their way over to the table. Elisabeth and Sybbyl welcomed the company at once, smiling and asking the men about the competitions they had been in, where they were from and the like. Helena and Peronell hung back a bit, their loyalties somewhat divided. Technically, legally, neither girl was spoken for, emotionally however was a different matter. Still Giles, Baldwin and two other young men who joined the group, Gerard and Tomas, were very kind and quite funny and both girls found themselves wrapped up in their competing tales of victory. With each story the villain seemed to grow in size and danger until the stories had reached legendary levels, armies a thousand strong and eight armed men armed with double bladed swords. The girls knew they were being had but it did not matter because the tales were so animated.

After the final course was served the tables were moved off to the sides and the area was freed for dancing. The village musicians stepped forward and began playing music and gradually people began to join in. The girls obliged the young men and danced with whoever asked them, resulting in them dancing for almost an hour without a break. Exhausted, Peronell finally stepped out and went to sit for a bit. She was aware that Baldwin left the floor with her, chivalrous as a knight would be, ensuring that she would find somewhere to sit. She was grateful for his kindness but she felt a bit cruel because she did not return the affection that he seemed to feel for her.

"It's very kind of you to sit with me, but you should return to the dancing. It's only myself that is tired, don't deprive yourself for my sake." She told Baldwin, trying to encourage him to leave her without actually saying so.

"Why would I want to dance when the loveliest woman in the village is not dancing?"

Peronell offered a small smile but could not look at him; it was becoming a bit more complicated than she had anticipated. Instead of becoming discouraged by her lack of response he assumed she was embarrassed by her emotions and so made his more evident.

"There is no one who is a beautiful as you anywhere in this land Peronell," he said, reaching for her hands that she held clasped tightly in her lap. "I am so fortunate to have had the chance to come to this tournament and find you."

It was becoming quite awkward. Peronell had never had someone so openly declare their feelings when she did not feel even remotely the same. She searched the crowd for Tristan and saw him across the dancing area. He, Gawain, Arthur and Bors were all trying desperately hard not to laugh outright at the spectacle in front of them. If it was so obvious to them that Peronell was uncomfortable, how could Baldwin not see it? She looked at Tristan, widening her eyes in a plea. Seeing her look, Baldwin grew concerned.

"Do not worry about those men," he reassured her. "They may appear brutish and rough but they will not hurt you." He reached out to cup her chin in his hand. "I will not allow it." The look on Peronell's face read alarm very clearly as she realized he was about to kiss her. She tried to delicately move her head back out of easy range.

"Ahhmmm," Peronell looked over Baldwin's shoulder in relief as she saw Tristan standing there, having managed to compose himself.

Baldwin looked at him with the deepest loathing, having been interrupted in the process of wooing the woman he expected to be his wife.

"I am sorry to interrupt you but I cannot allow you to continue speaking to the lady when it is so clearly making her uncomfortable." The corner of his mouth was still twitching from trying to suppress his smirk.

"I do not believe you are correct sir, it is you who are being rude."Baldwin retorted. Tristan raised one eyebrow and casually rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"No Baldwin, I'm sorry but Tristan is correct. I can't permit you to continue to speak to me in this way when I am not available to be pursued." Peronell leapt up, hoping to head off a fight. "You have been incredibly gracious but I cannot accept your compliments.

Baldwin looked confused at first but Tristan wrapped his arm around Peronell's waist, pulling her in towards him. Baldwin looked crestfallen and annoyed.

"I see, that is the way it is to be then." He stood up and nodded at Peronell and Tristan and then stormed off.

Tristan chuckled at her side but instead of laughing with him Peronell spun around and gave Tristan a quick slap across his cheek.

"How dare you allow such behaviour to continue when I was so obviously uncomfortable," She said, hotly. "and now he is ashamed and embarrassed and looks like a fool." She gestured to Baldwin's quickly retreating form. "That was unkind." With that, she stormed off, needing some space.

Tristan stood completely still for a moment, unsure as to what just happened. He could hear Bors roaring with laughter from across the way.

"This is when you follow her and beg forgiveness," Lanclelot suggested, having just witnessed the entire interaction.

"I have no idea why she just did that." Tristan replied, thoroughly confused.

"You acted like an ass today, you need to fix that, sooner rather than later." Lancelot educated him, mock concern etched across his face.

Tristan stood there looking at Lancelot, arms open and lost look on his face,

"Go," Lancelot shooed him off," Go now."

Tristan shot him a withering look and turned to follow Peronell.

"Do not let this moment to go to your head." He cautioned Lancelot before he walked off, pointing his blade for emphasis. Lancelot only smiled though he managed to suppress a laugh until Tristan was out of sight.

"Has anyone ever slapped Tristan before?!" Gawain asked, thoroughly entertained by the events. "That was impressive."

"I'm not sure but I cannot think of a better woman for him," Bors said, still laughing.

"What are you laughing at," Arthur asked, "Venora would've done the exact same thing to you!"

"That's why I find it so funny. Tristan is going to have woman just like Venora!"

* * *

Tristan found Peronell pacing near the stables, head tilted up to the stars, exactly where he knew she would be. She stopped when she saw him, not sure how she was planning on reacting.

She saw his eyes narrow and he pursed his lips, thinking of what to say.

"I think slapping me was a bit much." He finally said. Seeing her eyes narrow and begin to crackle with indignation he quickly continued. "However I am sorry that I upset you, that was not my intention."

Her shoulders dropped as she expelled the breath she had so quickly drawn in anger. She looked off to the side to gather her thoughts. Even though she was upset with Tristan, she still could not form a clear thought when she looked at him.

"I don't like anyone or anything to suffer unnecessarily, and nor do you I, believe. So I was surprised that you waited as long as you did to help me when he clearly did not understand that I was uncomfortable."

Tristan slowly walked closer to Peronell as she calmed down, exactly as you would a skittish horse, one hand slightly out, offering peace.

"It was not kind, you are right," he agreed, remembering Lancelot's words. "However I think if you were not involved in the situation you would have seen some of the humour in it."

"Do you?" She retorted, eyebrows cocked high.

Tristan was standing right in front of her and he raised his eyebrows and lowered his chin slightly at her childish response. Embarrassed at how immature she sounded, Peronell tried to look away but Tristan gently turned her face back to him.

"I'm sorry you are upset," he said gently. "That will not happen again." His looked deeply into her eyes.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Peronell said, though as she said it the corners of her mouth twitched a bit.

"Ah, now you see the humour in it do you?" Tristan enquired, "I see. Women are the most confusing creatures I have ever encountered." He declared, shaking his head slightly.

She smiled at him then and he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her gently. She returned the kiss eagerly, glad to finally be able to touch him again.

"Well, I'm glad I'm forgiven. I would hate to have to explain to your father that despite the granting of his permission to court you, you told me to go to hell."

Peronell looked at him confused for just a moment and then she understood what Tristan was saying. A smile broke out across her face and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply and he returned her enthusiasm with just as much intensity.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The crowd had become loud and ruckus throughout the course of the evening, generally connected to the amount of alcohol consumed. Little faces could be seen poking out of window openings to spy on the adults, children who were not quite of age took the opportunity to sneak into the banquet area and the musicians were in full swing. All in all it could be considered a successful evening.

Peronell and Tristan had rejoined the party but not until Peronell had asked Tristan for an explanation of his alternating behaviour, quite literally day to night.

"I do not know all these men," He explained. "Some may be my enemy and if they discover a weakness it puts me at a disadvantage and you in danger." Peronell was surprised at the matter-of-fact answer. If nothing else, Tristan would never mince words when giving her an explanation. His method of delivery was straight up, to the point, with no room for deviation.

"How is now different from earlier this evening?" Peronell asked. It was clear from their body language that there was a connection between the two of them as they headed back to the banquet area. Her arm was through his and the way his headed tilted down to hers whenever he spoke to her suggested a level of intimacy only shared by two people very much aware of their feelings for each other.

"I know my weakness now, I'm prepared for it."

"Ahh," Peronell smiled, tilting her head slightly at the brevity of his response. "Clarity thy name is Tristan." she thought.

* * *

Peronell sought out her father as soon as they returned to the banquet and enveloped him in a massive hug.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. The usually gruff man, emboldened by several glasses of wine, took her face in his hands and looked at his eldest daughter, gently stroking her cheek. Flicking his eyes to Tristan he restated the conversation the two had earlier in the evening.

"This is my first born child Tristan." He warned

The knight nodded in response, dipping his head a little lower than usual to demonstrate the appropriate level of respect.

As predicted Helena was thrilled. She saw the two approaching the group that was loosely formed around one of the far tables and sat up a bit straighter, grabbing at the hand that rested on her leg.

"Oh uh, friend." Lancelot warned Galahad. "You're done for now. One down, one to go." He wiggled his eyebrows at the youngest knight who shot him an exaggerated look of fear and trepidation.

Helena turned in Galahad's lap to respond, "Fear not," she retorted, firmly patting his cheek several times. "You haven't proven yourself worthy enough yet." She turned to speak with Venora, and both men had to turn their heads quickly to the side to avoid covering the bold redhead in the wine they each choked on.

* * *

As the evening drew later, the crowd became smaller, though by no means did they show any sign of slowing down. The musicians took several breaks, welcoming singers and other entertainers to step forward.

Peronell was seated comfortably on Tristan's lap and was listening to Bors regale them all with one of his tales of daring bravery when she notice Tristan turn his head slightly, as though he had suddenly heard something. Several moments later an on-duty Roman soldier entered the banquet area, locating Arthur as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to himself.

"There is a problem," he said quietly to the knight. In hushed tones he explained that a messenger had arrived from a village that would very soon be under attack, they were desperate for help. Arthur stood up, staying calm and at ease.

"Show him to the table." He ordered and turned to go, his knights slowly following behind him. They did not want to draw any attention to themselves and left in staggered groups. Tristan and Dagonet went last.

Peronell wanted to ask what was happening, where were they going? However Tristan only smiled at her and winked, promising to return in a while. She looked at Venora, hoping for an answer.

"It'll be fine, don't worry yet." Venora said, offering the only consolation she could.

The girls were left waiting for almost an hour, not wanting to leave until they knew what was happening. When the men finally emerged their faces were set in serious lines, focussed on what lay ahead of them.

"Come on, let us go." Bors walked over to Venora and took her hand, leading her off to their home without another word. She looked over her shoulder at Peronell, trying to reassure her in a glance.

Tristan stood speaking with Dagonet and Arthur for several more minutes before he moved towards Peronell. She knew what would happen now; she had seen it many times before. The knights would get a final night's rest and head out first thing in the morning, returning whenever their job was done. She began to get a queasy feeling in her stomach and fought to stay calm.

He walked over to Peronell and gently pulled her to her feet, looking relaxed in comparison to the other men.

"Come, I'll take you home." He took her hand and placed it through his arm.

"No, if you are leaving, I want to stay with you!" she protested. How was he so calm when he knew he was heading into a fight?

He paused and gently turned to face her. "Tonight I must sleep soundly, I may not get another good night's sleep for many days." He explained.

"How can you sleep?" Peronell demanded. They continued walking, much to her dismay. She was hoping to slow the whole process down.

"I sleep when I can and where I can." Tristan calmly replied, not rising to Nell's level of anxiety. "I will not leave without saying good-bye." He promised as they arrived at her home.

Peronell wanted to protest and demand that she be allowed to stay with him but there was a set look in his eyes that said he would not give in. Sighing in resignation, she nodded her head. When he lowered his head to kiss her it was tender, reassuring in its delivery but still as passionate as before. He let his hands move over her face, tracing the delicate brow bones and jaw lines, seeming to be committing every part of her to memory. He moved his lips against her hair, breathing in deeply as he crushed her body to his. The emotion that was in his every gesture made her wanted to cry. She kissed him in desperation, hoping to entice him not to go, even though she knew that would not happen. Finally he ended the embrace, gently moving his face away from hers.

"I must go." He stated.

She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. Instead she nodded. He kissed her gently one more time and then turned to retire in his quarters.

* * *

Peronell barely slept at all, she was terrified she might miss saying good-bye to Tristan. When she did wake she sprang out of bed, noticing the weak light creeping through the cracks in the window slates. Quickly dressing and combing through her hair, she hurried over to the knights stables. Her parents watched her from the eating area, choosing to say nothing. There was nothing that could be said at this time.

People were gathering about, wanting to see the knights off. It was always considered a big event, more so when they returned home. Venora and all the children were there, the sound of the baby and toddler's cries rang in the air. It appeared that some of the knights from the festival were going to join the Sarmation knights under Arthur's command. Peronell hoped the larger numbers would bring them home sooner.

She could see Tristan, Gawain and Dagonet making final preparations, testing their swords and blades for sharpness, their bows for strength and spring. Peronell did not know what to do, she wanted to run up to Tristan and hold on to him but he did not look very approachable at this moment. She could see the return of the cool, emotionless Tristan that everyone else saw. He appeared to be at peace, calm in the knowledge that they were about to head out on a dangerous mission. They all did. The change was remarkable. Overhead Peronell could see Tristan's hawk flying, waiting for their departure

As he slid his sword into its sheath he looked up, finding Peronell at once and gesturing for her to come. She made her way over to him, using every ounce of self-control to remain calm.

"Please come back to me." She quietly pleaded.

"I will return," He reassured her. "Remember that." He kissed her then, deeply and with longing. Breaking away the embrace, he swung up on his horse, preparing to go. Other knights waited anxiously, preparing to follow the Sarmations wherever they led. The horses were all dancing about, working the bit and eager to go.

"Knights," Arthur called out, "We are grateful for those of you who have chosen to join us on the mission. May it allow us a quick victory so that we may return home to our loved ones. Let us go." Tristan reached down to stroke Peronell's face and she looked up at him, fighting tears. She felt his hand slip away as he urged his horse forward and they were gone in a cloud of dust, the clattering of hooves echoing of the walls of the fort.

Venora and Helena came up on either side of her, each taking a hand. They stood where they were until they could no longer see the knights, none of them speaking.

"It'll be alright," Venora said, years of experience giving her voice confidence she did not whole-heartedly believe. "It always is."


	10. Chapter 10

_ Sorry for the delay in updating. I've recently moved and will be without internet for another week so updates happen whenever I can find an internet connection!_

_ Thank you for all your feeback, keep it coming!!! :)_

* * *

**Chapter 10**

The weather continued to be beautiful throughout July and into August, though the days were gradually cooling as autumn prepared to take over. Every member of the village was needed to get all the planting done for fall crops, in hopes that it would produce a high yield and carry them safely through the winter.

Peronell knew that she was being kept busy to help her forget about the substantial amount of time that had passed since the knights had left. Alys had given her more responsibilities and duties. She had recently begun her tutoring in using the loom, a skill that was challenging to learn given the number of threads involved. She was grateful for the distraction.

It had been almost over a month since the men had left. The Saxon attacks were continuously moving across the North. If the knights were lucky, they got to the next attack before it happened, allowing them to prepare. Messengers arriving at the fort would describe fields littered with bodies, the screams of dying men still audible amongst the crash and clatter of swords and shields. Peronell no longer stayed to listen to the recounting of the events; she couldn't stand the feeling of panic that rose in her throat.

Sybbyl, Elisabeth, Mary and Helena all tried to help distract her but their lives were hectic on their own. It was the longest summer Peronell could remember. She began to doubt her ability to survive such a relationship. She watched as Sybbyl was courted by one of the young men of the village. He made a point to help her carry her goods to the market whenever he could, they would walk together in the afternoons or at the end of the day. She looked so happy. Peronell wondered if that would ever be a reality for her and Tristan.

Peronell sought out Venora at one point, catching her in a moment that was not filled with children or ale.

"How do you do it?" she asked. Venora and Bors had been together for at least eleven years, how could she bare the time apart and the uncertainty it brought?

"You stay busy; keep yourself occupied as much as you can." The woman explained. She was not much older than Peronell, only 24 but with ten children and another on the way, she had lived this life much longer than any other woman at the fort. At 16, Peronell still had a lot to learn.

She sighed and set down her basket of clothes, "It's not a choice. You love him or you don't. If you do, you wait because you can't imagine yourself with anyone else." She put a hand along Peronell's woeful face before picking the basket up and continuing on with the tasks at hand. It was not want Peronell had been hoping to hear. There must be some magic formula that would make this pain easier to bear, something to make the time pass more quickly.

Alys had Peronell work on the loom outside, as it provided better light for the work she was trying to do. The sun shone down and her face, illuminating the crimson threads before her, and her hand deftly moved the shuttle through the threads. She paused for a moment and tilted her head up to the sky, stretching her back and neck and hoping the warm sun would not fade too quickly in the autumn. Above her, sparrows danced in the sky and the occasional monarch butterfly flit by. Then without warning, the sparrows fled the sky, seeming to be racing for safety. Turning her head Peronell search the sky and found the answer for the bird's sudden departure. High above her, a single hawk dipped in the breeze, circling around the Wall and fort.

"Alys!" Peronell called out, her head still tilted to the sky as the woman came out. Alys smiled at the girl.

"She wouldn't return without her master." Alys observed, " but they could still be a ways off, keep at your work please."

Peronell kept working, her hand now flying through the loom so that she could complete the work before Tristan returned. As the hours continued to pass she became more anxious, wondering if they would make it home before night fall.

* * *

The sun stretched long shadows across the grass throughout the fort as she wandered home, ears pricked for the sounds that would indicate the knights were home. She was helping her mother hang up some herbs to dry when she heard it, the sound of the guards bellowing to each other to open the main gates.

She looked at her mother, hope clearly written across her face.

"Go on then," Her mother said, allowing Peronell to abandon her chores. The girl spun off and headed towards the stable courtyard where the knights would convene.

The thundering of hooves was audible from the moment the gates lurched open. The ground was practically vibrating from the impact of the massive animals. All of Bors children were pouring out of their home, overjoyed at the possibility of seeing their father again. Venora was right behind them, trying to tidy herself as she went, smoothing her hair, pinching her cheeks and picking any bits of flora and fauna off her clothing. She smiled at Peronell as they met up on route to the stable courtyard.

"Did I not say they would return?" she smiled at Nell in a knowing way. "He will always come back to me."

Nell smiled at Verona, wishing she had an eighth of her confidence. The fact that Tristan was coming home was good enough this time. The women came around the corner and saw the knights bring their horses in to Jols, who was waiting with open arms.

"Good to have you back." He nodded to Arthur and each of the men in turn.

"Good to be back" Lancelot replied.

"Don't you mean lucky?" Galahad said, sliding off his horse, throwing a knowing look towards the older knight.

"We're all here aren't we?" Lancelot retorted, "What more do you want?"

When Peronell looked at their faces she could see they were exhausted. Covered in dirt, sweat and blood, they looked as though they had been to hell and back. Tristan, Gawain, and Lancelot seemed to be the worst off, or at least the dirtiest but seven men stood looking at each other, as though uncertain of their next move.

"Let's hope that doesn't happen again." Dagonet sighed, stretching his neck and rubbing at his face with one hand.

"We won't discuss it now," Arthur cautioned, noting the waiting crowd. "Clean up and we'll meet in the hall."

Bors went immediately to Venora, wrapping her into a tight embrace and breathing in deeply. Unlike her usual mock outrage when he returned from a long trip, Venora wrapped her arms around Bors tightly and held on until he was ready to let her go.

Tristan moved slowly towards Peronell. She couldn't tell if it was because he was hurt or just tired but he seemed to lack the usual grace in his movements. He smiled at her and reached out to take her in his arms and she moved toward him eagerly. Realizing at the last minute that he was covered in blood he took Nell's face in his hands instead and kissed her tenderly, holding her slightly away from his body.

"Tell me you missed me," he demanded, his eyes searched her face.

"Very much." She looked up at him, grateful he was home and unharmed. "Please tell me none of this blood is yours?"

"Hmph," the knight shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't think so, I'll find out when I get cleaned up." He looked over his shoulder at the other knight's, "There are a few more things we need to take care of. Where will you be?"

"You're the scout," she retorted, teasing him a bit, "you find me."

A small smiled crept across his lips and he ran his finger tips across her brow bones, down along her cheek bones until they met under her chin.

"I will find you," he promised. She knew he was playing along but she could still hear the hint of challenge in his voice, "every time."

"Then I will see you soon." She whispered, as he gently pressed his lips to hers before heading off to clean the blood and brutality from his body.

Before leaving the courtyard she noticed Arthur standing close to his horse, rubbing its neck methodically, deep in thought.

"Was everything alright? Did things go according to plan?" Nell didn't want to pry but she knew Tristan would not divulge any details and if something happened, she wanted to know.

"Nothing ever goes according to plan, that is the one consistency in life." Arthur smiled at her kindly. He never discussed the missions with anyone other than the knights and he knew she was searching for information.

"Tristan is rarely gravely injured, you need not worry about him. This mission was no exception." He pet his mount soundly on the neck and gave Peronell a slight bow before leaving to clean himself from the blood on his body.

Tristan the knight was different than Tristan the man. Before she knew him better he used to frighten her. Stories were told about how ruthless he was in battle, the cold, analytical way he approached each opponent. His technique on the battlefield was compared to dancing; he seemed to enjoy the interaction, the partnership of it all, right through the final stroke. Yet for all his appreciation of the fight he did not leave his opponents to suffer. As with anything else he did in life, he fought efficiently and with purpose. This side of him did not scare Peronell, it was simply another piece of Tristan she needed to understand if she chose to be with him.

* * *

Having challenged Tristan to find her, Peronell made sure that she avoided anywhere he might expect her to be. She stayed away from all of her girlfriends, the tavern, the stables and the Smithy. Instead she walked through the trees that existed between the outer wall and the keep, enjoying the peace and quiet she could find there. She found a comfortable area to sit and looked up at the stars that were slowly showing themselves in the twilight. She tried to remember all the constellations her father had taught her so that she wouldn't get lost in the woods when they had to gather nuts and berries closer to winter.

"Have you found what you're looking for?" Tristan asked, slowly making his way over to where Peronell was seated.

She turned her head to the side and smiled at him, clucking her tongue in disappointment." How did you find me so quickly?" She had thought he would be much longer in locating her.

Rather than responding, Tristan gestured into the sky. Dipping in lazy circles was his hawk.

"That's cheating!" She claimed and laughed, smacking him leg lightly as he sat down behind her. He omit a soft laugh, barely audible and pulled her back against him, so they were as close as possible.

"How far do you think I can see, hmmm? That's what she's there for, to see beyond my abilities and show me what I'm looking for." His mouth was very close to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Very slowly and gently he placed his lips on the side of her neck, barely touching her. He kissed up her neck, to her ear and nibbled very carefully. Peronell took a deep breath, trying to still her heart, only it was racing too quickly for anything to stop it. She turned her head to the side and found his lips easily. The passion in their kiss accelerated quickly and Tristan slowed it down, breaking up their kisses before he turned his head to the sky.

"Tell me what you see." He asked her, trying to maintain some control of the moment. Nell had the ability to undo all his willpower and self-control if he allowed it. He had to maintain some composure or he would not be able to stop himself.

Sighing in frustration, Nell looked up and began pointing out all the constellations she knew. Tristan asked her how she could tell where home was if she was deep in the woods, how to locate the North Star and how she could tell what type of weather was approaching.

Peronell was both surprised and pleased at how much she recalled. The answers came to her with barely any thought and it was reassuring to know that even though she rarely had to use these skills, she still had the knowledge if needed.

"Is my lesson done now, sir?" her voice lifted up as she teased him, batting her eyes.

"You still have much to learn," he whispered in her ear. He turned her face to him and kissed her with all the passion he had been holding back since he saw her that afternoon. His hands tangled up into her shining waves, pulling her closer to him. Nell was grateful that they were already sitting down; she would not trust her legs to keep her up. Whenever Tristan kissed her like this it was as though she was being consumed by a flame. Heat shot through her whole body and she could barely breathe. All she could smell was leather and sandalwood and the woods, everything that made up Tristan. She turned around so that they were seated face to face and Tristan's grip on her tightened. She felt him pull her even closer, his lips becoming more demanding. Almost urgently, his hands move from her waist, down along her legs and up under her skirts. His fingers were moving softly up her legs and she felt as though she was drowning.

"Wait, stop" she said breathlessly, "Please." Tristan stopped immediately, his hands coming to rest on her calves. He put his forehead to hers and slowly moved his hands from her skirts. She hadn't meant to stop him, or rather, she did not want to stop him but knew she should.

She looked at his face cautiously, seeing that he was nodding his head in agreement.

"Yes, we should stop." Though outwardly he was agreeing with her, the look on his face said he would have gladly continued.

"I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. I shouldn't have teased you like that." She was uncertain as to how he would respond; she hadn't meant to take it so far. In Tristan's absence the tavern girls had taken the opportunity to explain, in great detail, what men expected from their women. Some parts sounded lovely but mostly terrifying and consequences of those interactions even worse. The girls had laughed at the shocked expressions on the faces of Helena and Peronell after their brief tutorial.

"No, don't apologize. We should stop." Tristan agreed, though he still had not moved her away from him.

"It can be very hard," he explained, "to keep my control around you, especially when I've been away so long." Pausing for a moment, he continued. "All I ask is that you don't let me go further than this until you are ready. Beyond this point I will not be able to stop."

Nell nodded, not sure of what to say next but she needn't worry. Tristan gently removed her legs from around his waist and turned her around, her back against his torso. He continued to hold her close to him and they sat in the cooling evening air as they caught their breath. After a time, he stood up, lifting her up with him, and brought her back into the keep before darkness fell completely.


	11. Chapter 11

_ Sorry about the delay folks. I've got internet again so hopefully updates will be happening a little sooner. Thank you for the reviews!!_

* * *

**Chapter 11**

With the knights home again the village seemed to settle down. The extra set of hands helped to get tasks completed more quickly and a sense of ease descended over the village now that their protectors were home. There was a growing nip in the air with each passing morning and there were concerns that the winter ahead might be a hard one. Those families that had harvested earlier were grateful, the others began to become anxious that they might lose crops if the weather continued to chill.

Although the men were home, they were not often in the fort itself. Tristan and Arthur specifically were often out checking the boundaries of the wall, and cementing relations with the Woads. There was a very tentative agreement that existed at the time, creating primarily because of coming winter, but there was peace and no Saxons immediately on the horizon. People could relax. Homes were readied for winter. Though typically quite mild, it was never guaranteed that cold weather wouldn't seek the Wall out. It was important to make preparations just in case.

* * *

Peronell continued to be busy in her apprenticeship. She was finding the thicker winter wool much more challenging to manage. Alys had shown her how to spin the thread so that it was not as thin, which in itself was a nuisance because she had to go so much slower. Using it in the loom also proved very labour intensive. Regardless, this thicker wool would make for warm clothing and it would be greatly needed in the coming months. The mastery of this new task was well timed with Tristan's return. Peronell was thrilled to have him home, yet neither of them seemed entirely sure of how they were expected to behave. It was clear that they had to be mindful of their interactions with each other. It would not be acceptable for them to spend their nights together if they were not married. Others did of course, Venora and Bors were not married and they had 9 children. However Peronell's parents did not want her to ruin her reputation, on that they had been very clear. Peronell would live at home with her family until the wedding which was still undecided. It was both a source of frustration and a blessing in Nell's mind. She knew she was head strong and had a tendency to rush in to things without thinking them through. Her father was simply ensuring that she did not make a mistake she couldn't get out of.

It was something of a joke between Nell and her friends that Tristan was not the average suitor. He did not constantly seek her out, nor visit her at her work space. He did not openly or publicly make his feelings known as other young men did and yet it was so very obvious that he cared for her and she for him. It was in the way that Tristan moved when he was around her, subtly bending his head to catch every word Peronell said, letting his hand brush hers as she moved past, letting his eyes linger on her when she wasn't looking. These movements were all small and carefully conducted but very deliberate in their execution.

* * *

It had been almost three months since the knights had been home when word reached the wall that Saxons were headed in their direction. It was not a large group, the knights were informed. They had splintered off from the group the knights had fought in the summer and were now marooned on the island; hungry, angry and trapped. Regardless, 200 hundred angry Saxons against seven knights and a handful of men from the wall were not promising odds.

The initial instinct was to keep the information hidden from the villagers, however with such a significant division between numbers, the knights would need all the man power they could acquire. Men were taken aside in small groups to receive instruction or practice in sword skills and archery. Women and younger children collected pig fat and peat moss in case they were needed. Clothing that was no longer usable was ripped up in case it was needed for wounds and injuries. Arthur had sent Tristan to contact the Woads for extra help, in the hope that their tentative peace agreement might extend to battle assistance.

The village was beginning to buzz but it was very different sound from that of the preparations for the summer festival. This buzz was hushed and anxious. Parents waited until their children were asleep before discussing any concerns and tried to make life continue on as it did at this time. It was clear something was amiss, a steady stockpile of supplies did not go unnoticed, but it was not a certainty that the Saxons would arrive at the Wall. Likely the knights would fight them again, one way or the other, but where was anyone's guess.

* * *

Tristan returned to the Wall with a promise of some assistance from the Woads if the need arose. The knights gathered at the round table to discuss their best course of action.

"We shouldn't wait for them to come to us," Tristan stated, "We're putting women and children at risk. Their vulnerability will be a distraction."

"If we go and meet them and their numbers are double than what has been reported, we'll be done for!" Galahad argued. "We can send the weaker members of the village away to safety, the rest will stay and fight." Tristan looked at the younger knight, offended that Galahad had implied Tristan might be incorrect in his estimates.

"If we send them away before we know what direction the Saxons are coming from, we could be sentencing them to death!" Bors retorted.

Each of the knights put in their vote for the best plan. The common concern was what to do with the women and children. It was common knowledge that Woad women fought alongside the men, however the women of the Roman Empire were not trained in battle, nor were they ever expected to fight. Arthur came to a decision that it would be best to wait and see if the Saxons came to the Wall before sending the women and children away. Preparations for departure would continue just in case. The men agreed with him and Tristan prepared to head out before dawn the next day to gather more information.

* * *

Later on that evening Tristan and Peronell sat together in a quiet corner of the tavern, Peronell in Tristan's lap. The tavern was not its usual loud self. There were a handful of Roman soldiers eating and having a small drink and three younger men seated closer to the front. Otherwise it was empty. Tristan seemed completely unconcerned with the fact that two hundred Saxons could be at their doorstep within two days time. Peronell had been quiet for most of the night. She wanted to ask Tristan something she and Helena had been discussing but she wasn't sure how to go about it.

Leaning against him she decided to just begin. "Will the Woad women come and fight alongside the men?" Peronell was old enough to know exactly what was going on and what the ramifications might be if the Saxons did actually attack.

She felt Tristan's gaze shift downwards her, listening very closely to what she was saying. "Yes, if the numbers are needed." He answered carefully.

"Would it not be helpful if some of the women in our village helped to fight, if the numbers are needed?"

"No it would not." Tristan's tone was short and had a definite edge to it. "You women have not been trained to fight; you have never seen what a battle looks like. It would ruin you and you would likely be killed. Women fighting would only distract the men."

Peronell was surprised at how cold and uncaring Tristan sounded, she had nothing to say other than, "Oh." She continued to lean against Tristan, not sure of how to proceed.

He sighed, a combination of exasperation and surrender. He turned her gently to face him, tilting her chin slightly with one finger so that she looked at him. "If you were fighting, I would be distracted because I could not bear the thought of anything happening to you." He explained gently. "It is better that those members of the village who we care about most are far away and safe, than by our side and in immediate danger."

Nell nodded her head, showing she understood. It was an idea she and Helena had discussed earlier in the day, the possibility of fighting alongside the men. True, neither girl had any formal training but it sounded so brave of the Woad women to fight with the men. The moral and psychological courage it must take them to not fear the repercussions of their actions as long as it meant their victory. It was admirable.

"Come, I need to be up early to patrol." Tristan lifted her up onto her feet and taking Peronell's hand, headed towards her home.

"Can't I stay with you?" Peronell asked, standing still against Tristan's forward motion. He turned and looked at her, unsure of how to respond. She had not made a fuss about him seeing her home each evening since he had begun courting her. This was the woman who would be his wife, he knew this for a fact, as did she. Did it really matter if she stayed with him at night?

"You said no last time and you were gone for over a month?!" Peronell argued. "What if something happens? What if the battle is disaster and you die?!"

The corner of Tristan's mouth lifted slightly and he raised an eyebrow at her outcry. "Do you think I am that poor a fighter?"

"I'm being honest Tristan." She said, a little annoyed that he wasn't taking her seriously.

"So am I." He responded. "I made a promise to you father that I would only treat you with the outmost respect and I intend to honour that promise."

It was Peronell's turn to be exasperated. "Then let's get married now and be done with it!" she cried. "If you are to be my husband than why are we waiting when there is no need?!"

Tristan's brow wrinkled as he considered what she had said and Peronell held her breath in hope.

"No," he shook his head finally. "A promise is not something to be quickly and easily broken."

Peronell threw her arms up and her head back in response, almost growling in her frustration. He pulled her close to him then, tucking her head underneath his chin. He could feel the tension radiating off her body. He rubbed the heels of his hands up and down her back until she began to relax.

Dipping his head down to hers, he spoke quietly into her ear. "I will not die in this battle," he told her. "There is too much to live for. I will come back to you, just as I promised before." She did not raise her head, only wrapped her arms around him tightly. He could feel a slight catch in her breathing and the occasional sniffling sounds told him everything he needed to know. They stood there, locked together until Peronell was ready to go.

In the early morning, the sound of Tristan calling for his hawk filtered into her dreams and she knew he was heading out to scout. Willing herself to continue sleeping, she snuggled up beside her sister and soon fell back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

By mid-day Tristan had returned, bringing with him the news that the Saxons were most certainly two hundred strong, though a weak and straggly looking lot. Arthur received the information as expected, calmly and with a reasonable amount of trepidation. The knights immediately got to work, ensuring that each Roman soldier had enough arrows to keep them firing for a long time. Pig fat was collected and poured over haystacks that were situated between the outer walls and the keep, in the event that a diversion needed to be created. The hope was that between the Roman soldiers firing arrows and the Sarmation knights fighting on the ground, the weak and disorganized Saxons could be easily managed.

The villagers were gathered, complete with enough food and water to hold them for a few days and told to move north, away from the wall, yet taking care to stay behind it as long as possible. When it was safe to return, the knights would come for them. Peronell was vehemently opposed to the idea however she was unsuccessful at changing the minds of either Tristan or her father.

"I am not a child," she declared. "I want to stay here. I'll be fine. I don't want to leave you." She was practically pleading with Tristan.

He shook his head slightly, "No. I have explained to you why that is not a wise idea, I won't explain it again. You need to go with your family."

"How will I know you are safe?" she demanded. "What if something happens to you?"

"I will be fine. This is not the first battle I have fought, nor will it be my last. You must go now, don't make me order you to leave."

Peronell looked at Tristan, shocked at his tone and words. She blinked rapidly and looked away from him, as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Tristan was anxious for the people to be gone; he needed to focus on the task at hand. He looked at Peronell and took in her worried expression and the tears that were building up in her eyes. His expression softened somewhat and he gently tilted her face up to his. He kissed her gently, softly, just as he had the very first time. As he pulled back, he saw one of her tears slide down her cheek and brushed it away with his thumb.

He nodded in the direction of the other men and women gathered at the single back entrance to the fort. Venora and her children were all together and ready to leave and Peronell saw Helena walk towards the group, leaving Galahad behind. Peronell's family was close by, ensuring that all the siblings were accounted for. They were only waiting for Peronell now.

Turning away from Tristan she moved towards her impatient and anxious family. They were almost at the end of the long line of villagers departing the fort. Fendrel passed her Sybyyl so that he could help his father push the cart and they headed out. No comforting words were offered to her. People were scared and uncertain and their attention was on the safety of the family, not the emotions of a young girl. Peronell pushed the hurt down into her stomach and worked on keeping her younger siblings quiet.

She had been outside the walls of the fort many times but it had been many, many years since they had been forced to leave for their safety. Not since she was a little girl, long before the current Sarmation knights. It was a formidable feeling to have to leave the security of the stone walls. The men kept their hands on small daggers tucked into their belt, their eyes constantly scanning the area as they moved forward. Only once did Peronell turn around to look back, the massive wooden door had already been shut and bolted, preventing any surprise attacks from the rear of the fort.

* * *

The silence was unnerving. Now and again there was the snort from a horse, or the sound of child whining or crying followed by soothing sounds but otherwise there was silence. No one wanted to draw any unnecessary attention to the large group. It was unlikely that the Saxons would attack unprotected women and children but this was not an organized military group and the usual rules of engagement might not be recognized. Usually they would have heard the drums from the approaching enemy but there was nothing. Either the Saxons were hoping for a surprise attack or they were so lacking in supplies and men that they had dispensed with the access formalities. Suddenly the high pitched whiney of a horse cut through the air and blood curdling yells seemed to rush down the valley the villagers were trudging along. The few horses they had in their company tossed their heads about, eyes rolling in their heads. They knew something was happening.

"Come on then, keep moving!" One of the men commanded and not one person hesitated. Fear drove them to a much quicker pace and silenced the children. It was important that they put as much distance between the battle and themselves as possible. They continued to move onwards, pushing to cover as much ground as possible during the day, not stopping for any food or rest until night began to fall.

A forest that was situated along the ridge provided the protection they would need to make it safely through the night. Once the horses and wagons were secured the men began to patrol the area, making sure that they had not been followed. The women and children set to work cooking and preparing areas for the various families to sleep.

* * *

Peronell felt ill with worry. Although she was kept busy with the various tasks, her mind was able to wander back to the fort. She had never seen or heard a battle but the sound of the horses was bone chilling. It had sounded like a banshee. Part of her wished she was back at the fort so that she knew whether or not Tristan was alright, the other part of her was grateful she was safe and removed from the fight. Helena and the other girls sought her out after they had all eaten. All they seemed capable of talking about was the battle, what was happening? Where would they go if the Saxons had won? What would happen to them?

"They'll be alright, they're strong and rested and well fed. Everyone's saying the Saxons looked as though they hadn't eaten properly in weeks." Helena was trying to reassure both Peronell and herself, with limited success.

"Of course they will." Mary agreed. "They're the Sarmation knights, no one has beaten them before." The other girls all nodded their heads in agreement though no one said anything. It wasn't long before they dispersed; called back to their families to do a final head count before everyone bedded down for the night.

* * *

It was the first time in many years that Peronell did not sleep. It did not matter what position she lay in, her mind gave her no rest. She watched as each star ventured in to the night sky and then again as the sun inched its way into the sky first thing in the morning. Turning her head about she could see that most people were still sleeping. Quietly standing up Nell reached her arms above her head, stretching the soreness out of her muscles as best she could. The morning air was still damp, covering her hair and skin in mist. Thankfully the wool cloak she had wrapped around herself while she slept had kept most of the dew off her clothes. She was not too cool. She moved away from the group so that she might be able to relieve herself in privacy.

When she returned her family was mostly awake, as was the rest of the camp. No orders were given but each family had already begun to pack up their belongings in anticipation of leaving. Out of the corner of her eye, Nell thought she saw movement amongst the trees and she turned her head suddenly. There was nothing. She stared into the dense landscape of trees, willing whatever had moved to reveal itself but after a few moments she gave up and turned away. She helped her little sister break off a small piece of bread from the loaf her mother had brought with them but did not take any for herself. She knew that whatever food they had might have to last them for several days, if she could do without, she should.

She heard a strangled cry from behind her and spinning around she saw Brunis, one of the young men in the village fall to the ground, a sword sticking through his body, his own blade hanging limply at his side. As his body crumpled, a scrawny Saxon was revealed, his sword drenched in Brunis' blood. Peronell screamed as loud as she could. Suddenly the forest seemed to come alive with noise and people. Women grabbed their children and tried to find somewhere safe to hide, the men sprang into action, drawing whatever weapon they could find. Peronell could not tell how many Saxons there were, not many it seemed but the terror they instilled in the villagers made them seem much greater in numbers.

Thunderous hoof beats cut through the screams and arrows flew through the trees. Nell heard Bors bellow cut through all other noise and she was finely able to move. She ran, snatching up Ysmay as she did and ran for the massive tree her mother was pressed up against, shielding her baby and little Sybbyl. She pressed Ysmay's face against her chest so that she wouldn't see the blood that surrounded them. The screams alone would give her nightmares for the rest of her life; she did not need the images to enhance the experience.

Nell's heart was pounding in her chest, her throat closing up in fear. She could not seem to get to the tree, no matter how fast she ran. Jarring her vision, a Saxon planted himself directly in her path and wrapped his massive hand around her throat. His blade was raised high, preparing to drop it across her body. The world came to a complete stand still. There were no screams, no crashing of swords, no blood spilling onto the ground.

"Oh Ysmay," Peronell thought. "I failed you. I'm sorry little one, I'm so sorry." Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Willing strength into her arms, she threw her sister away from her body, hoping to keep her from harm. As she did so, she felt the Saxon's grip tighten around her neck and he swung at her.

His blade fell to his side, as his knees gave out. A look of pain and surprise covered his face and blood bubbled up to his lips before he dropped to the ground. Behind him stood Tristan, sword in hand but it was not her Tristan. Not this man. Cold eyes flicked up to her face, and his mouth was twisted into a satisfied smirk before he spun around and sliced at another Saxon.

Peronell was stunned by the man she saw but this feeling was short lived as she turned frantically to find Ysmay again. Her little sister was splayed on the ground where she had landed, terrified. Peronell grabbed her, holding her close and crouched down into a ball. There was nowhere else to go.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Shh shh shhhh." Peronell whispered into Ysmay's ear, as the little girl whimpered. "It's alright, it'll all be over soon." Peronell raised her head slightly and saw what appeared to be a victorious ending to the surprise attack. The Sarmation knights were scattered amongst the village men, each of them covered in blood from their wounds or those they inflicted on others, blades clutched in their fists Around the other villagers, the bodies of the remaining Saxons lay scattered about, motionless.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Galahad demanded. "How did they splinter off like that without us knowing?" He shot an accusing look at Tristan, wanting to know why the scout hadn't seen that move coming.

Tristan shook his head in response. "They were one group when I saw them last. They must have divided up afterwards." His tone was clipped and dismissive. He took the younger knight's criticism to heart.

Arthur nodded his head in agreement. "It was an act of desperation, there was no reason for them to attack. The only thing they could've been after was food and supplies." Nodding his head around the resting grounds, he ordered, "Check on the injured. Load them up on the horses and let's get these people back to their homes."

* * *

Seeing that the crises had come to an end, Peronell stood up and gently placed Ysmay on the ground beside her. She took a deep breath, willing her heart to return to its usual pace. Ysmay wrapped her arms around Peronell again and buried her face against her sister's body, not wanting to see what surrounded them.

"Come on," Peronell said gently. She unwrapped Ysmay's arms from her waist and placed them at her sides. She smoothed the hair back from her sister's face and forced a gentle smile onto her own. "There's no time for us to be scared. Mother needs our help. Others were not as lucky as we were." She tilted her chin up and squared her shoulders back. Taking her sister's hand, they walked over to where her mother now stood, a baby in each arm, looking frantically around her.

"Where is your father? I don't see him. Where is he?!" She whispered in a frantic tone. Seeing Peronell, she shoved the children into her daughter's arms and began searching for her husband, ignoring those injured around her.

Peronell stood stock still, her heart plummeting to her stomach. She had not even considered the possibility that her father had been injured. She was so focused on getting herself and her sister to safety that she hadn't even noticed he wasn't with them. Of course he would have joined in the fight, he was a blacksmith. After the knights, he had the best blades in the village.

The baby was howling in her arms, Sybbyl was starting to cry and Ysmay seemed incapable of doing anything. Peronell could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble, and her eyes were hot with tears that wanted to run down her cheeks. Around her, women cried out as they discovered their son or husband dead on the ground. The smell of blood, dirt and sweat mixed together in her nose, tart and salty.

"No," she thought. "Everything is fine, father is fine, Fendrel is fine. We're all alright."

She passed Sybyyl to Ysmay, forcing her to action.

"You need to help me. We need to find Fendrel." Her voice was firm, not betraying the panic she felt. Her little sister nodded mutely in response, gently bouncing Sybyyl in her arms to calm her.

They did not have to look very far. Across the site she saw her father, with a shocked and bloodied Fendrel at his side. They looked horrid, covered in dirt and blood. Her mother raced into Peronell's field of vision. Wrapping her arms around Borin, she kissed him as Peronell had never seen her do before. He wrapped his arms around her with equal strength. When they parted, her mother turned to her son, her faced streaked in tears. Peronell could see her look him over, running her hands through his hair to check for bleeding. Satisfied that they were not in mortal danger, she guided Fendrel back over to his sisters while her father moved over to where Arthur and Tristan were in deep discussion.

The girls threw themselves on Fendrel once he was close enough, hugging him tightly until he was wincing pain.

"Gently girls," her mother scolded. "Your brother has just seen his first battle and he's a bit worse for it. Don't harm him further." Beatrix set her daughters to work, gathering and packing up whatever was left of their belongings. Fendrel helped his mother check on their neighbours, lifting injured men and women into the back of the few carts that were available.

* * *

Hearing the sound of hoof beats, Peronell turned from the sack she was packing and saw Tristan astride his stallion. Clearly he was heading out to scout again for any other possible dangers. She looked up at him and saw warm brown eyes looking back at her, concern written across his face.

"Are you hurt?" He asked her

She could only shake her head in response. Though the eyes she looked into now were kind, the lines of his face was still hard and she could not shake the look in his eyes when he had killed the Saxon. He reached his hand down to stroke her face and it took every ounce of strength she had to not recoil from his touch. The air around her felt cool and she shivered a bit in response.

Tristan saw the look in her eyes. He had seen that look before in the eyes of people whose lives he had saved. It was a combination of gratitude and fear; it was not the look he had ever thought he would see on Peronell's face. His heart sank for a moment before he pushed the feelings aside.

"I won't be gone long." He told her. She nodded, offering a small smile as a reassurance that she was alright. With a quick kick to his stallion he was gone, wind rushing past him as he headed out on his mission.

* * *

Quickly the villagers packed their things together and the rest of the Sarmation knights surrounded them as they returned to their village. Once again the group was silent, this time from exhaustion and injury. Silently walking beside her mother, Tristan's two faces kept popping into her mind, alternating almost with every step. She could not make them match up.

"Are you alright?" Fendrel asked her, keeping his voice low. Peronell nodded in return.

"Were you scared?" he asked her.

"Terrified." Was her reply, barely more than a whisper. She looked at her brother, "Were you?"

Fendrel nodded, eyes wide, remembering what he had seen. "I thought I was going to die. I thought you were going to die. I saw that Saxon......and I couldn't get to you. You were so far away." His voice was husky with emotion but he swallowed, shoving the emotions away. He had to learn to be tougher; he was a man now, that's what Borin had told him. This was his first battle, he was a man.

"Thank the heavens that Tristan was there." He said finally. "I should've known he wouldn't let you be hurt."

Peronell glanced at her brother, not sure how to respond. She wanted to tell him that she was terrified of the Tristan she had seen, that she didn't ever want to see that man again. Yet here was Fendrel, reminding her that Tristan would always ensure her safety. She couldn't think of what to say, and so she said nothing.

They continued to walk on, reaching the fort later in the afternoon. The air had remained cool all day but the sun had managed to finally work its way through the clouds. The warmth seemed to bring with it a more light-hearted feeling to the people and tentative conversations began to spring up as they re-entered the fort.

* * *

Within the inner walls everything looked the exact same as when they had left. The homes were untouched and there were no bodies to be seen. However the men and boys were recruited to assist in gathering the Saxon bodies that littered the grounds outside of the main walls and Fendrel assured her that it was a very different story on the other side.

"You should have seen it all!" He reported over their evening meal. "You can almost tell which knight killed which Saxon. Some with bows, others with arrows. Lancelot's are almost always beheaded and Tristan's have this huge slash across their bodies from his blade, because it's so much longer than the others. It's really amazing!" His eyes were wide with excitement. However he caught the look from his father, strongly suggesting a change in topic, and fell silent.

Peronell had been quiet for the duration of the day, speaking only when spoken to. Although both her parents had noticed, they did not have time to ask her what was wrong. Borin was fairly certain he knew what was causing her silence but the issue was best dealt with by those involved, Peronell and Tristan.

Later in the evening, Peronell perched herself on the two remaining bales of hay that were out front of her family's home. The village was buzzing with residual tension and men were drinking in the tavern with more enthusiasm than they had since the summer. The noise was comforting to Peronell, who had found the silence of the previous 24 hours unnerving. It helped to block out the thoughts that were running through her head.

She loved Tristan, of that she was certain but that man she had seen in the forest was barely even a shadow of the Tristan she knew. His face had shown pleasure at the death of the Saxon. Not pleasure that he had saved her but pleasure at taking the life. Even when he had reached down to stroke her face that afternoon, his face was still not the one she recognized. The question was whether or not she could forget what she had seen today and continue loving the man she knew. Peronell did not know if she possessed the ability to differentiate between the two men. How could she be with a man that was kind and gentle with her and yet took pleasure in killing others? It was a question she never thought she would have to consider.

She covered her face with her hands, massaging her forehead, as though she were trying to push an answer into her skull.

"Peronell?" She heard Fendrel's voice from the doorway.

"Hmmm?" she answered, head still held securely in her hands.

"Can I sit with you?" He asked tentatively. She could hear his footsteps on the ground as he walked over to her and sat down beside her.

"I'm sorry if I upset you tonight. I didn't mean to." Glancing to her right, Peronell could see Fendrel's face. Despite the fact that he had just fought his first battle, his face still held some of the soft roundness of younger children. He had not yet grown fully into his body.

She smiled at him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You didn't upset me. I think I'm just in shock, that's all. I never thought I would come so close to dying."

"Me neither." The boy shook his head. "I wish you could've seen what I saw though. The way the knights fought, Peronell they are so good. So much better than I could ever dream of being." His face was filled with awe and reverence as he recalled the combination of grace and brutality that he had witnessed in battle.

"I think I saw plenty." Peronell responded, looking out into the quickly deepening darkness. "I've never seen someone look like that."

Fendrel looked at his sister, for a moment confused before understanding her meaning.

"Tristan?" He asked

Peronell nodded her head and she quickly glanced at Fendrel.

"Did he scare you?"

"Terrified is a better word I believe." She shook her head, realizing how silly she must sound. She was complaining that a look on Tristan's face had frightened her and her little brother had been in hand to hand combat with men double his size.

"He does look a little scary when he fights." Fendrel agreed, nodding his head. "but he's so good. No one can come close to him, it's amazing to see him fight."

"Who would want to get close to someone who takes pleasure in taking the life of another human being?" Nell's tone was harsh and Fendrel turned to look at her, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Peronell, this is what Tristan has been trained to do." He turned his whole body to face her. "They are all skilled fighters, this is their job. It's their life. Because of the knights ,we are alive and safe today, everyday. You can't hold that against Tristan, that's not fair."

Peronell turned and looked at Fendrel and was surprised to find a look of reproach on his face. She had expected sympathy and concern.

"I just mean that, I don't know who that man is. Fendrel, he took pleasure in killing that Saxon. I saw it in his face!"

"So maybe he did. He's a very skilled fighter. He is only that knight in battle, the rest of the time he's the Tristan you know and presumably love. If you can't accept that, you shouldn't be his wife."

Peronell pulled back as though she'd been slapped and Fendrel looked equally surprised at himself. He did have a point forever. Peronell was demanding Tristan be gentle and tender all the time and that was unrealistic. He had been trained as a ruthless, calculating killer because that was what Rome demanded of the knights. He was simply doing what he was trained to do.

Peronell looked down, feeling childish and ashamed.

"I'm sorry Nell," Fendrel began. "I don't mean to be so hard on you. It's just, you can't judge him when you don't know what it's like in the moment. When the enemy is all around you and you're trying to protect people, and yourself. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced."

"You're right. I know you are." She raised her head and looked at her brother. "I am being silly and unfair. Thank you for reminding me." Nell smiled at her brother, a genuine smile this time and gave him a hug.

"Thank you." She whispered in his ear.

"You're welcome." He replied, shrugging his shoulders as best he could in his sister's tight embrace.

"Come, we should go inside. It's been a long day." Nell hopped off the bale and waited for her brother.

"Do what you want, I'm going for a drink in the tavern!" Fendrel hopped down beside her and grinned. "Today I became a man, who would refuse me now!"

Peronell chuckled at her brother. "Father might, for starters.

She watched him head off to the tavern, chin tilted up in confidence and pride, and smiled. Today marked the end of Fendrel's childhood and the start of his journey into the world of adults. His conduct both on the battlefield and off made that very apparent. Peronell moved into the home, going to help her mother with whatever remained to be done. She'd had quite enough excitement for one day.


	14. Chapter 14

_Hi all! _

_Thanks for all the feedback, it is greatly appreciated and please keep it coming. I'll try to keep the updates more frequent :)_

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**Chapter 14**

The next morning dawned cold and clear. Briton's winter had officially arrived. Outside the ground was dusted in a light frost and every source of water was covered in a thin film of ice. The first task of the morning in every home was to start a fire and bring the smaller animals inside to warm up. Within an hour of being awake, the eating area in Peronell's home was fit to bursting with 2 pigs, 2 goats and one cow. Without a doubt this was her least favourite time of year. Fortunately, now that she was older and in the midst of her apprenticeship, the task of maintaining the cleanliness of the household, amidst all the additional houseguests, fell to her younger siblings.

First and foremost, the men who had died in battle the previous day must be laid to rest. As the ground was too cold first thing in the morning, they would wait until the afternoon once the sun had been given a chance to warm the ground up. In the meantime, there were many tasks to be done in anticipation of additional cold days.

* * *

Peronell headed immediately to the seamstress stall, where she knew there would be many torn tunics and trousers waiting to be mended. She moved carefully over the slippery ground, the frost crunching beneath her steps. Up ahead, she saw Tristan walking towards her, leading his stallion. She swallowed, her throat feeling dry and thick. She had been trying to think of what to say to him since last night and was no closer to a decision.

He continued moving towards her until they were only a few inches apart. Peronell's heart was racing. She couldn't look up into Tristan's face.

"Good morning." He said quietly, his horse huffing in the frost behind him.

"Good morning." Peronell whispered.

He paused for a moment before speaking. "Will you come for a ride with me?"

Peronell nodded her head hesitantly. Realising how foolishly she was acting, she raised her head and looked him in the eyes. "I'll be expected at work."

"Alys will understand, she's not even there yet."

"I need to get my horse...."

"No, we can take mine. We won't go for long."

Peronell stood back as Tristan mounted his stallion before reaching down and lifting her up. He settled her on his horse, pulling her close to him. She felt her body tense at the contact initially and then she began to relax as her body remembered the familiar feeling of him. He squeezed his legs around his horse, urging the stallion forward and out of the gates. They were quiet for a time but Peronell could feel the tension between them, the weight of words that needed to be spoken.

"You seem to be very upset." Tristan's voice was low and gentle against her ear; it sent familiar shivers down her spine.

"What do you mean?" Peronell asked, "I'm fine."

"Your whole body is tense. Your spine, your jaw, even your steps. You're body betrays your thoughts." He waited for her to respond.

Nell took a deep breath. She should have known he would see through her. The sharpness of the cool air seemed to nip at her cheeks. She moved in closer to Tristan to keep warm.

"I think I'm just in shock from the battle in the forest." It was a weak answer and she knew it.

"Oh I don't think that's it." Tristan kept his arms wrapped around Peronell's waist, patiently waiting for her answer.

Nell looked over her shoulder at Tristan and all she could see was kindness and patience. There wasn't a trace of the man she had seen in battle. This man was simply waiting for her to tell him what was bothering her.

"You..." Peronell took a deep breath and continued, "You enjoyed killing that Saxon. You took pleasure in his death!"

Tristan paused for a moment before responding, "Yes I did. Does that surprise you?"

Peronell spun herself around as far as she could so that she could look at Tristan.

"Are you joking?! You've just told me that you enjoyed killing someone! Is that meant to reassure me?"

"I killed a warrior that was about to kill you. I was glad that you lived and he died." He looked at Peronell closely. "Why is this upsetting you so much? I'm a knight. What is it that you thought I was doing when I returned to the fort covered in other men's blood?"

Nell was quiet while she considered this information. Tristan was echoing the very words her brother had spoken less than 12 hours before. To be fair, Peronell knew what Tristan did, but it was one thing to be knowledgeable about how someone made their living and quite another to see it happening directly in front of you. She tried to sift through all her thoughts so that she could determine what it was that was actually making her upset.

Tristan stopped his horse and swung down to the ground, reaching up for Peronell to help her dismount. She let him lift her down, felt the strength in his hands and arms that promised he would not let her fall. When he placed her on the ground he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, blown there by the cold breeze. Again she looked into his eyes and she saw calmness. He was not worried about how she was behaving; he was waiting for her to understand him.

"I am a knight and I have been trained to kill anyone who threatens the safety and security of any land that Rome presides over. I am very good at what I do and I accept my occupation without question. If someone threatens the life of someone I love, I will kill them as well because I would rather take their life than have you taken from me."

Peronell listened solemnly and thought carefully before she responded.

"I was scared," she told Tristan. "I was scared of what was happening and what might happen. You looked so frightening. Not at all like the man that is standing in front of me."

Tristan continued to stand in front of her with what appeared to be infinite patience.

"Do you understand that I can be both men?" he asked her.

Her voice hesitated a bit, as though making sure of her answer. "I do, I just.....how can you be one man one moment, and such a different man the next?"

"Well, no one would want to be around the man I am in battle now would they? You wouldn't."

"No, that's true. I do care very much for this Tristan though." She stepped a little closer to him and he placed his arms around her waist.

"This is the man you will see every day. The man who fights in battles will not come home to you but he will always be a part of me. If you can accept this, you are accepting all of me." Peronell could see then that his eyes were searching hers, looking at her face for any trace of what she was thinking.

She was being unrealistic, she could see that now. It wasn't fair to ask him to change who he was.

"I can accept that." It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Tristan smiled at her and she welcomed his embrace as he pulled her closer to him. Reaching out a hand, he gently cupped her chin, stroking her cheek as he did so. When their lips touched, she forgot everything. The intensity between them was as strong as it had ever been. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close to her as possible. It was as though she could not bring him close enough, no matter how tightly she held him. They kissed this way for several moments before they broke apart, only enough to allow them to speak.

"I need to get you back to work." His voice was ragged and Peronell could feel the quickness of his breath

"I don't need to be there."

"I need a reason to take you back to the fort, or will take you here and now. Something I did not plan on doing."

Nell smiled at the suggestion and she could feel her cheeks pink in a blush. She looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again.

"You speak as though this should encourage me to change my mind." She teased.

He groaned when she said this and his arms tightened even more around her. It was inconceivable the amount of control this young woman had over him.

"Not outside in a field with frost on the ground. You will be warm and dry and comfortable before I will bed you, and no other way." Tristan's voice was determined but tender and Nell knew she would be waiting, again, until Tristan felt they were ready.

Sighing, she kissed him on the forehead that was bent towards her and once on each cheek. Trying to ease herself out of the lust that filled her body and mind.

"Alright," she finally responded. "You win again this time but eventually, you will lose."

"I've never lost a fight yet." He retorted.

"That's because you've never fought against me." Nell gently explained. He chuckled and then released his hold on her and she stepped back a bit, needing physical space to cool off.

Tristan twisted his neck from side to side, stretching and then picked Nell up, placing her in the saddle first before swinging up behind her. He pulled her in tight to him, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair and skin.

"It is possible that you will be the victor in this battle, but really, would either of us be losing if I let you win?" He whispered into her ear. Before Peronell could respond they were in motion, headed back to the fort.


End file.
